generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) mrs. leslie's books for little children. the robin redbreast series. books written or edited by a. r. baker, and sold by all booksellers. question books on the topics of christ's sermon on the mount. vol. i. for children. vol. ii. for youth. vol. iii. for adults. lectures on these topics, _in press_. mrs. leslie's sabbath school books. tim, the scissors grinder. sequel to "tim, the scissors grinder." prairie flower. the bound boy. the bound girl. virginia. the two homes; or, earning and spending. the organ-grinder, _in press_. question books. the catechism tested by the bible. vol. i. for children. vol. ii. for adults. the dermott family; or, stories illustrating the catechism. vol. i. doctrines respecting god and mankind. " ii. doctrines of grace. " iii. commandments of the first table. " iv. commandments of the second table. " v. conditions of eternal life. mrs. leslie's home life. vol. i. cora and the doctor. " ii. courtesies of wedded life. " iii. the household angel. mrs. leslie's juvenile series. vol. i. the motherless children. " ii. play and study. " iii. howard and his teacher. " iv. trying to be useful. " v. jack, the chimney sweeper. " vi. the young housekeeper. " vii. little agnes. the little frankie series. little frankie and his mother. little frankie at his plays. little frankie and his cousin. little frankie and his father. little frankie on a journey. little frankie at school. the robin redbreast series. the robins' nest. little robins in the nest. little robins learning to fly. little robins in trouble. little robins' friends. little robins' love one to another. [illustration: little robins learning to fly.] little robins learning to fly. by mrs. madeline leslie, author of "the home life series;" "mrs. leslie's juvenile series," etc. [illustration] boston: crosby and nichols. 117 washington street. entered, according to act of congress, in the year 1860, by a. r. baker, in the clerk's office of the district court of the district of massachusetts. electrotyped at the boston stereotype foundry. little robins learning to fly. chapter i. mr. robin's poor cousins. early one may morning, fred symmes was sent by his mother upon an errand to the next farm. he did not go around by the road, but jumped over the stone wall, and passed along through the pleasant orchard. as he came near the pear tree, he saw a large robin flying back and forth from it, and stopping to look, soon discovered a nest in the fork formed by two of the lower limbs. what was his surprise, as the robin flew toward the ground, to have it alight on his arm! when he at once recognized it as mr. robin, who had a wife and family in the elm tree near the cottage. "why, what are you doing here this bright morning?" he asked, holding out his finger, upon which the familiar bird readily perched. mr. robin cocked his head, turned up his bright eye, and tried to explain. but as fred did not seem to understand, and kept saying, "i hope you have not forsaken your wife and little nestlings, pretty birdie," he alighted on the ground, picked up a worm, and flew away into the tree. fred quickened his steps, did his errand at the farm, and on his return, found mr. robin had flown away. he climbed into a tree, from which he could look into the nest. there he saw a female bird sheltering her young, who were feebly chirping as she partly rose to meet the intruder. she uttered a cry of distress, and began to flutter her wings; but fred quickly slid down from the tree, and put an end to her alarm. when he reached home, both mr. and mrs. robin were picking up crumbs at the cottage door. "grandpa," said he, when they were seated at breakfast, "i saw something very funny this morning. i found our robin in a pear tree near mr. bacon's farm, feeding a whole nest full of birds." "were they alone?" inquired mr. symmes. "no, father. the mother bird was there; and he fed her too." "i suppose the father has been killed," suggested the old gentleman. "it is very cruel to kill birds when they have little families to take care of. but i have read many instances where birds have assisted each other when in distress: where the male bird has been killed, one of his neighbors has fed and assisted in rearing the young brood, at the same time he attended to the wants of his own family." an hour or two later, grandpa sat in his arm chair under the shade of the graceful elm. fred had brought his tools, and was converting a large wooden box into a playhouse for his little sister. annie stood near him, her apron filled with small bits of broken china, which she called her dishes, and which she was waiting to arrange in her new cupboard. it was very warm; and the boy's forehead was wet with perspiration. he drew his jacket sleeve across his face, as he exclaimed, "there, annie, your house is done." "thank you, thank you, dear brother," cried the little girl, in an ecstasy of delight. she emptied the bright-colored crockery on the ground, and ran to the house for her dolly and two chairs; the latter her mother had made of pieces of smooth cornstalks, fastened together with pins. "o, doesn't it look pretty, grandpa?" she asked, jumping up and down in her glee. "see minnie sitting in her parlor. now i'll set up my dishes. o dear!" she added, with a quick, appealing glance at her brother, "how nice it would be if i had a table!" "well, some time i'll make you one," answered fred, with a smile. "and you can put your dolly's cradle into the bedroom." "o yes," shouted annie, with a cry of joy; and she ran away to fetch it. "i will help you make a table," said grandpa to fred; "and i think we can manage to put together a very pretty one between us." "i want to hear more about birds helping each other," said the boy. "it seems so queer that they should know enough to do it." "it is a most interesting study," answered the old gentleman, "to watch the character and habits of birds, and one which has engaged the attention of many learned men. there is no portion of god's creation in which his wisdom is more displayed than in the formation of birds. each and every variety are exactly fitted for the circumstances in which they are to be placed. for instance, the eagle, who lives on high crags or rocks, almost inaccessible to man, has a short, strong beak, hooked at the end, wings of immense strength, and claws large and sharp. he is gifted with extraordinary clearness of sight. sitting on the summit of a huge rock, or sailing around at a great height in the air, he discerns his prey. sometimes it is a fish just below the surface of the water, or a lamb accidentally separated from its mother. he shoots down, down, and with the speed, sure aim, and straightness of an arrow, pounces upon the prey, and carries it off in his strong talons." "how different from our pretty little robins!" exclaimed fred. "yes, the eagle is a bird of prey, and is formed accordingly. the robin lives upon grubs, insects, or seeds and fruit. it is not necessary, therefore, for him to be possessed of much strength. his beak is just fitted for the kind of labor he must perform in getting his food. it is slightly notched near the end. he is a very social bird, and is remarkable for the bravery with which he defends his young. then there is the pelican of the wilderness, who is furnished with a large pouch, joined to the lower part of his beak, in which he can carry a considerable quantity of food to his young." chapter ii. the hen hawk. while grandpa and fred were talking, they suddenly heard a loud cry of distress from the hen in the coop, quickly followed by the cluck, cluck, with which she summoned her chickens under her wings. presently mr. and mrs. robin seemed to partake of the fright. she uttered continual sharp cries, while her husband flew with quick, violent motions over his nest. fred hastened toward the barn, and saw a large hawk sailing in the air above them. he ran to call his father, who was, fortunately, near at hand. "bring my gun," said mr. symmes, taking down a flask of powder from a high shelf in the shed. "now we'll soon bring him down," he continued, stationing himself at the back door. he took his aim. annie turned pale, and pressed her hands over her ears. then came the report; and, true enough, the great, brown bird fell to the ground just in front of the hen-coop at which it had been aiming. "that was a good shot," remarked grandpa, walking slowly to the place. "i seldom miss fire," said mr. symmes, with a look of honest pride. "my hand is steady, and the gun is a faithful old fellow, that has served honorably in war, and has helped me to get rid of many an enemy." "o, father, see how it flutters! it is not quite dead." "bring it here, child, and i'll put an end to its pain. we should always avoid keeping any living being in misery." he wrung the hawk's neck, though annie screamed, and then began to cry. "why, sis, do you want our chickens and birdies all carried off?" asked fred. "this is a bad bird, and would have stolen them away if father had not killed it. hark! there are the robins now singing us a song to thank us for protecting them." they all stopped for a moment to listen, as the beautiful songsters warbled forth their sweet strains, filling the air with their rich melody. "do you suppose they really know what we have done for them?" inquired the boy. "certainly i do," answered grandpa, "they made known their wants as well as they were able, and in language that it was easy to understand. the little nestlings knew at once, from the cries of their parents, that there was danger near, and joined in the notes of distress. now, while their father and mother sit quietly upon the bough singing their thanks, they feel sure the danger is past, and that no accident will happen to them." "i'm sure the chickies knew," said annie. "they ran in to their mother as quick as they could, and cuddled together under her wings." "they knew just as well," replied her father, "and understood her language as quick as you would if your mother saw a great lion in the yard, and called you, 'annie, come here! run quick into the house, or you will be killed!'?]" in the mean time, fred had been examining the dead hawk, and now exclaimed, "o, what a strong bird this is! i don't wonder smaller ones are afraid of it." "it is of the same family as the eagle and falcon," said grandpa, "though, as you see, its beak is very short, and bends gradually from its base. it is naturally a ferocious bird, but is capable of strong affection for those who treat it with kindness. in england, hawks were formerly much prized, as they were trained to catch game of various sorts, and sometimes became so tame that they would not only come when called, but they would bring home to their owner whatever they took in their flight. "a hawk which was once owned by a gentleman in england, escaped from its owner, after accompanying him on a hunting expedition, and flew hundreds of miles in the short space of about six hours. it alighted on a vessel bound for america from europe, which was nearly midway on her passage, and was recognized by a silver ring on its leg, with the owner's name engraved upon it." "did it remain on board the vessel?" inquired fred, earnestly. "for some days it did, my dear, and then it took its flight." "do you suppose it could find its way back to its master?" asked annie. "o, yes, as easily as the robins in the tree will find their way back to our farm when spring comes again," said grandpa with a smile. "the chickens are all out again now," said the little girl, running to the coop. "yes, indeed!" exclaimed her brother; "they have forgotten all about their fright by this time. grandpa, what would you do with this dead hawk?" "i would dig a hole in the ground and bury it, my dear." chapter iii. learning to fly. the next morning, fred was awakened earlier than usual by a loud and continued chirping in the robins' nest. he dressed himself quickly, and ran to the window, where he saw dick, the largest bird, sitting on the edge of the nest, while his father and mother were hopping from one bough to another, twittering incessantly, and trying to encourage him to try his wings. fred was greatly excited, and ran to the stairs to call his sister, who slept below in the room with her parents. this was indeed an important day in the robins' nest. dick and jack, molly and katy, were now fledged; and it was high time for them to begin to exercise a little. "dick is the oldest, and must try his wings first," said mr. robin, firmly. "i dare not," answered dick. "it makes me dizzy only to look down." "don't stop to look, then," said his mother. "spread out your wings and fly away. try, and you will find it very easy. here, see how i do it." she perched for a moment on the nest by his side, and then slowly raising her wings, flew to the ground. "i know i shall kill myself," muttered the cowardly bird. "let me fly," exclaimed jack. "it looks easy when you do it." "it is easy," said his father. "it is only to make up your mind, 'i can fly if i will,' spread out your wings, and away you go. dick, as you are the oldest, the privilege of leaving the nest first is yours; but if you do not start before i chirp three times, jack may take your place." he then began, "chirp, chirp, chirp;" but the foolish dick did not move. his father was much displeased, and gave him a blow with his beak, pushing him back into the nest. "come, my brave jack," said his mother; "you shall show us how easily you can learn to fly." poor jack's heart beat strangely, as he saw how far it was to the ground. his mother showed him how to move his wings, continually spreading them, flying a yard or two, and then returning. "i am a bird, and must learn some time," chirped jack; "so here goes--" and shutting his eyes, he resolutely let go his hold of the nest, and came down, rather awkwardly, to be sure, but still safely, upon the ground. his mother instantly joined him. "good jack," said she, "i am proud of you;" and she repeatedly touched her beak to his. "i thought i was falling, falling," answered jack; "and now that i am here, i'm afraid i shall be obliged to stay, for it seems impossible to get back." "here, take this worm, my dear," said his mother, "and then mount that little bush." jack did so, and found he could fly a short distance with perfect ease; indeed, he was delighted with the exercise, and, being quite pleased with his mother's praise of his conduct in showing more courage than his brother, he thought, "there was never a happier robin than i am!" "i will leave you," said mrs. robin, "for i see your father cannot persuade dick to venture. you may practise from the bush to the ground and back until i return. there is no danger," she added, as she saw jack turn his head quickly and gaze anxiously around. "all are friends to us; even king, the great dog. and there he is now; so i will stay and introduce you to him." king came walking into the yard, and mrs. robin hopped boldly up to him, calling jack to follow her. she stopped when she was within a few feet of him, and began talking in a loud twitter, every now and then turning her bright eye round upon the young bird. "bow, wow, wow!" barked the dog, in such a loud roar that jack shook all over. but king seemed to understand that mrs. robin had asked his interest in her young fledgling, and he was quite ready to do his part. he walked a step or two forward, and then lay down to survey the new comer at his leisure. at this minute, annie came running to the door with an apron full of crumbs. her face was glowing with pleasure, and her voice was so kind and cheerful, as she called out, "birdie, birdie, pretty birdie," that jack felt acquainted at once. mrs. robin caught one crumb, swallowed it, and then, with a glance of affection at jack, returned to her duties in the tree. the little robin hopped up nearer, and began picking up the bread, ever and anon cocking his funny little head, and chirping pleasantly, as if to thank her for her care. then he returned to the bush, and flew up and down, up and down, while annie laughed, and shouted, and clapped her hands, and called him the smartest bird she ever knew. chapter iv. getting worms. "come, dick," said mrs. robin, in an encouraging tone, after she had related jack's delight at his success. "come, now, or your little sisters will learn to fly before you do." "i don't feel at all afraid," chirped katy; "now jack has learned, i know i can." "that is right, my dear," said her mother. "but come, dick, your father is getting impatient." dick reluctantly hopped up on the side of the nest. "now," said mr. robin, "i will give you one more chance to retrieve your character. spread your wings and fly away, or be content to remain in the nest without food. for i will no longer feed so disobedient and obstinate a bird." mrs. robin hopped from branch to branch uneasily, while her husband was speaking. she would not be guilty of the impropriety of interrupting him; but she feared he was making a threat his parental affection would not allow him to execute. "o, i'm sure dick will try to be as brave as his brother!" she said; "look, how he is enjoying himself, picking his fill, and chirping to the dear little girl!" "i'll chirp one, two, three," said his father, "and don't let me find you here when i'm through." dick, though very much afraid, was more than half inclined to venture. his father's threat of leaving him without food had terrified him; and then he saw jack in the enjoyment of plenty; but he could not quite make up his mind to let go of the nest. "chirp, chirp," cried his father. dick trembled, and at last ventured to hop to the next bough; and before mr. robin had repeated the last chirp, his mother went behind him and pushed him off. poor dick was awfully frightened; but before he had time to scream, he had alighted safely at the foot of the tree. "o dear!" said he, straightening himself up with a braggadocio air. "it's nothing at all. here i am, safe and sound. i can fly now as well as any bird." jack flew from the lilac bush to congratulate him on his success. "i knew you could fly, if you would only make the attempt," said he, kindly. "of course i can fly," answered dick. "i was not at all afraid. i saw you wanted to alight first, and so i held back; that was all." at this answer jack was very angry. he flew at his brother, and was just about to pick him, when he remembered his promise to his mother to strive for peace. "after all," said he, hopping away, "you are not worth quarrelling with. you are a wicked, lying bird." "it is now so late," said mr. robin to his wife, "i think we had better feed molly and katy, and eat our own breakfast, before i go to my cousin's family. when i come back, we will give our daughters their lessons." they flew away first to the garden, when mr. robin stood a moment, as was his custom, looking vacantly around. suddenly he cocked his ear on one side, made a glancing sort of dart with his head and neck, gave one or two little hops, then listened attentively, while his eye glistened with animation and intelligence. he held his beak close down to the ground, then drew back his head and hopped once or twice; then, after a moment's pause to ascertain that all was right, he began to pick with all his might, and presently pulled out a fine worm, which his keen sense of hearing informed him was not far off, and which his hops and pickings had brought to the surface to escape what the poor worm thought was his underground enemy, the mole. after having repeated this process many times, until molly and katy were satisfied, mr. and mrs. robin flew back to the yard, and alighted at the cottage door. here they found the family assembled to watch the motions of the young robins. jack had grown very friendly with annie, and had even ventured to hop up and rest on king's head. it was evident to all, that the dog was delighted with this mark of friendship, though he considered it beneath his dignity to take much notice of the little fellow. dick appeared to be not so great a favorite. fred and his sister had often watched him from the window, and had already given him the name of the greedy bird. now he acted consistently with that character, and seemed wholly occupied with the crumbs, hopping about and picking them up as fast as possible. mrs. robin tried to make an apology for him, at the same time calling him to come forward and speak to his kind friends. but dick could only stop to bow awkwardly, and then return to his food again. indeed, he much wondered how his parents and brother could wish to spend their time in talking, while there was such a feast spread out before them. "now," said mrs. robin to jack, "i must go back to your sisters--will you go with me?" "i will," answered jack. "i want to tell katy what a fine time i have had." so he turned up his head in a very arch way to annie, and after a few pretty little chirps, flew lightly into the top of the lilac bush. dick made no answer, and his mother determined to take no notice of him, but to let him return to the nest when he thought fit. she ascended to the tree, where jack alighted as soon as she did. his little heart panted with the excitement and exertion, but his mother praised him, and his sisters received him with joy. chapter v. sorrow in the nest. "i do not think," said molly, "that i shall ever learn to fly." "o, don't be afraid!" cried jack, soothingly. "we'll all help you." "i am not afraid, but i cannot get away from the nest." "why not?" asked mrs. robin, in surprise. "why not?" repeated jack and katy. "because my foot is fastened to the bottom of it," replied poor molly, in a mournful tone. her mother hopped to her side, and endeavored to remove a long piece of worsted thread, which was woven into the nest, and was now firmly twisted about molly's leg. "how long has this been done?" she asked, in an anxious tone. "i first discovered it last night," said the patient bird. "every time i tried to stir, it bound me firmer than before. i have endeavered to remove it with my beak, but i think i have only made it worse. now i fear i can never learn to fly." "dear molly," said jack, pressing his neck to hers. "i will stay in the nest with you," said the tender-hearted katy. mrs. robin said nothing, but after flying to the top of the tree to see whether her husband was in sight, she began to pull at the string; but every motion made poor molly utter a cry of pain. "i must be content to remain quietly in the nest," she faltered, in a touching tone of sadness. jack and katy began to chirp most piteously, and continued to do so until their father returned. in the mean time dick went on eating until he could scarcely move; and when he began to think it was time to return to the nest, he was so heavy and stupid that he could not raise his wings. he heard the continued chirping of his brother and sister, and said to himself, "probably they are anxious about me; but i will let them see that i can take care of myself." as he said this he tried to feel very brave, but he really longed for the pleasant nest and the shelter of his mother's wings. just then he heard the cockrel crowing right merrily. he had often heard it before; but now it sounded dreadfully loud and near at hand; and indeed it was so, for presently mr. cock came marching by, his head erect, and the comb on his foretop glowing like fire. dick ran to the lilac bush, and trying to conceal himself in some of the lower branches, trembled like a leaf in the wind. here at last he fell asleep, with his head tucked under his wing. when mr. robin returned from his labor of love, he found his wife and family in deep affliction. poor molly lay exhausted at the bottom of the nest, her limb being more firmly secured to it by the exertions of her mother to remove it. jack and katy kept up a succession of plaintive cries, while their mother hopped from one bough to another, her tail jerking and her wings flapping in distress. they all began at once to repeat the sad story of molly's detention, which mr. robin listened to with sharp cries of pain. he hopped into the nest, but the poor bird begged so earnestly not to be disturbed at present, that he postponed trying to remove the string until another day. "come, darlings," said he, "i will sing you a song, to try to cheer your spirits." he flew to the observatory at the top of the tree, and warbled forth,- "see, the morning lights the skies; open, birdie, ope your eyes; the trees begin to blossom fair, and fling their odors on the air; and every balmy zephyr brings health and sweetness on its wings. the plants within the garden beds begin to lift their pretty heads. we, merry birds, extend our throats, and carol forth our sweetest notes. the hen, with all her little brood, comes clucking round the door for food; around the yard the pigeons fly; the stately geese, with heads so high, are marching off to swim and scream, and sport upon the glassy stream. the fields are smiling all around; you cannot hear one jarring sound; there's nothing harsh, there's nothing sad, but all seems beautiful and glad. o, how delightful all we see! and if to robins, such as we, so much of loveliness is given, how very charming must be heaven!" chapter vi. katy's flight. the next morning molly felt quite refreshed. "my foot," she said, in answer to her mother's inquiries, "feels quite free from pain. i am convinced that it is my lot to remain quietly at home; and i will try to bear it as cheerfully as i can." "dear molly," whispered her mother. "darling sister," repeated jack and katy. dick said nothing, but looked stupidly from one to the other, wondering what they could mean. he had returned to the nest late the previous evening, and had not heard of his sister's affliction. mr. robin sat on his favorite bough, gazing sadly at the poor bird. he had not yet tried to relieve her, and notwithstanding his wife's fears, indulged strong hopes of being able to remove the string without breaking the tender limb. "i cannot be really unhappy," continued molly, looking cheerfully around, "while you are all so kind. to be sure, i have longed for the time when i could fly from bough to bough, or skim through the clear air; and i have hoped, when i was old enough, to find a mate and rear a family of my own in the same sweet, peaceful happiness as our dear parents have reared us; but now i resign all these innocent joys, and find my delight in sharing yours. "come, dear katy," she added, "let me no longer detain you from your morning flight. i long to see how gracefully you will raise your pinions and soar away." "sweetest and best of sisters," murmured katy, in a loving tone, "every moment i love you better than before, and am more sorry to leave you;" and she nestled closely to molly's side. "you will soon return, dear one," said her sister, tenderly; "and remember there will always be one heart in the nest that will welcome you with joy. go now, love, and treasure up all you hear and see, to cheer me in my solitude." while this beautiful interchange of affection was taking place, mr. and mrs. robin, the delighted parents, were sitting near, their hearts every moment swelling with pleasure. "now," said the tender mother to herself, "i am well repaid for all my care and watchfulness of my beloved children; for all my share of the labor of building a nest; for the long days and nights, through cold and rain, that i have sheltered my eggs, until at last i have seen the dear ones come forth. "yes, indeed, and for the anxiety with which i have endeavored to impress virtue and affection upon their young minds. to see them growing up in the interchange of mutual affection, and to hear them give utterance to pure and noble sentiments, far exceed all the joys of my lifetime." one thought of dick, as unlike the others, intruded itself upon her mind; but she would not allow this to interrupt the delight she had experienced. very similar were the thoughts and emotions of mr. robin, but mingled with them was a plan he was forming for the benefit of his dear child. his purpose was to attract to his nest the notice of some kind friend at the cottage. if he could succeed in this, he was perfectly confident that she could be liberated. but now his attention must be given to katy, who, in obedience to her sister's wish, hopped to the side of the nest. "o, dear!" she chirped; "it seems a very long way to the ground." "it's just nothing at all," said dick, spreading his wings and flying away. "i know just how you feel," added jack; "but it is really safe, or our parents would not allow us to try it;--and only think what delightful sails we will have through the bracing air. come, dear; now we'll start." "steady, my little one," called out mr. robin. "open your wings like this. there, that is right; now let go the nest. one moment more, and you'll be safe on the ground." "bravo! pretty bird, bravo!" shouted fred, who had that moment opened the outer door. "that was well done for a beginner. come, hop up this way, and i'll give you some crumbs." "chirp, chirp, chirp," answered little katy, her bright eyes twinkling with pleasure. fred darted into the house, and presently returned with a liberal supply of food. mr. robin caught up the largest piece just as dick was hopping toward it, and ascended with it to the nest. "o, ho!" exclaimed fred, "i suppose there are more birdies in the tree." "yes," said annie, who had run to the door in her night dress, "you know we counted four little mites of robins." "o, don't let that greedy bird get all the best crumbs!" she added, as dick hopped from one piece of bread to another, catching them up as fast as he could. "just see how pretty those act," said fred, pointing to jack and katy. "yes, he stands back to give her a chance, but the greedy one cares for none but himself." chapter vii. mr. robin's appeal. when the tender parents had finished their willing task of feeding molly, they hopped forward close to the very door of the cottage, and seeing the old gentleman sitting in the room, mr. robin made bold to walk in and make known his errand. "i wonder what he is talking about, so very loud and earnest," exclaimed fred, coming in softly behind him. "i don't know; but he is very zealous about it. see how he turns first one eye, then the other, while he twitters away as if his life depended upon making us understand." suddenly robin uttered a sharp cry, and flew away toward the nest; and before they could express their surprise, he was back again, twittering as fast as ever. fred laughed aloud. "how very funny!" he cried. "what does it mean? he never did so before." "i have no doubt he is trying to tell us something; and i fear it is not pleasant news, from his mournful cry." "i wish we could understand," said the boy. "i once read of a man," said grandpa, "who, from his boyhood, had studied the language of birds, and by close attention had acquired such a knowledge of it, that from the song of the parents, he knew where the nests were situated, whether they contained eggs, or whether the brood was hatched. he knew even the number of young birds and their age, before he saw them. this is truly wonderful, and if i had not read it from the best authority, i could hardly credit it. if so, i suppose, by careful observation, we could in many cases understand their different notes, and thus learn their wants and emotions, as well as the birds themselves do. "i was once walking in a wood, and caught sight of a party of jays before they saw me. they were all chattering together and enjoying themselves highly. suddenly one of them uttered a short, deep-toned note, when in an instant all was silent,--and they skulked one by one to a neighboring thicket." "i suppose one of them caught a glimpse of you, and warned the others that you were near enough to listen to their secrets," said fred, with a hearty laugh. grandpa now took his cane and walked to the door, determined, as the appeal was made to him, to watch the motions of the robins, and try to help them if they were in trouble. but though mr. robin kept repeating his flight to the nest, and his effort to talk, nothing could be made of it; and at length the poor father seemed to despair. in the mean time, jack, katy and annie were chatting merrily together; and before this first interview closed, katy had even ventured to take a crumb from annie's mouth. this the child thought the very summit of happiness, and called loudly to her mother to come and share her delight. jack was evidently very proud of his sister; and while this was going on, hopped from one to the other, his small head cocked in a very arch manner. after a time the little ones hopped away, as they wished to fly back to the nest. katy was quite impatient to impart her success to her sister; but when she glanced up into the tree, she was almost in despair. "fly up a few times into this bough," said jack. "it is beautiful exercise." katy did so, and presently, with a beating heart, from the bush mounted to the nest. "o molly!" she cried, "if you had been with us, i should have been the happiest bird that ever lived." "how like her mother she grows!" said mr. robin to himself as he gazed lovingly upon his youngest child. "every time i picked up a crumb i thought of you," said jack--"of you alone here in the nest." "i have scarcely been alone a moment," said molly. "either father or mother has been with me, and they have treated me to a delicious feast. i shall soon become quite reconciled to my situation. but where is dick?" "he is eating, as usual," said mr. robin, in a stern voice. jack and katy now repeated the adventures of the morning, to which their sister listened with great interest. "i can't help thinking about mr. robin," said grandpa, taking his cane and walking out of doors as soon as breakfast was over. "birds have a wonderful instinct; and i have no doubt he was asking my aid about something. they will often fly to man for protection when pursued by an enemy." "i wish you would tell us a story about a bird," said annie, earnestly. the old gentleman seated himself in his chair, and after resting his chin on the top of his cane for a moment, he began: "a beautiful pair of goldfinches once built their nest on a small branch of an olive tree. the female laid the eggs and hatched the young brood, when the parents perceived that the weight of the growing family would soon be too great for the strength of the branch which supported the nest. this fact was evident to the family who lived near, and had watched with interest the proceedings of the birds. "one morning the goldfinches found their nest was giving way, and that something must be done at once, or it would fall. they consulted together, then picked up a string, and with their beaks drew it around the slender twig, and then fastened it to a stronger and higher branch of the tree. thus they saved their falling house." transcriber's note: punctuation has been standardised; spelling has been retained as in the original publication. birds in flight [illustration: _kingfisher and young_] birds in flight by w. p. pycraft zoological department, british museum (natural history). fellow of the zoological society of london. hon. member of the american ornithologists' union. associate of the linnean society. member of the marine biological association of the united kingdom. member of the royal anthropological institute. author of "a history of birds," "the infancy of animals," "the courtship of animals," "the sea-shore," etc., etc., etc. _illustrated by_ roland green, f.z.s. london gay & hancock limited 34 henrietta street, covent garden, w.c.2. 1922 _all rights reserved._ contents. chapter page i. concerning wings 1 what a wing is--the quill feathers and their function--the skeleton of the wing--the muscles of the wing--the great air-chambers of the body--the bat's wing--the wing of flying dragons--the wings of dragon-flies and beetles. ii. the first bird 15 the ancestors of birds--the first known bird and its many remarkable features--the gradual evolution of the birds of to-day. iii. the sizes and shapes of wings and their relation to flight 21 the evasiveness of flight--the size of the wing in relation to that of the body--noisy flight--"muffled" flight--the swoop of the sparrow-hawk--the "flighting" of ducks--the autumn gatherings of starlings and swallows--"soaring" flights of storks and vultures--the wonderful "sailing" feats of the albatross--the "soaring" of the skylark--the "plunging" flight of the gannet, tern, and kingfisher. iv. modes of flight 35 the movements of the wing in flight--marey's experiments--stopping and turning movements--alighting--"taking off"--hovering--the use of the tail in flight--the carriage of the neck in flight--and of the legs--the flight of petrels--the speed of flight--the height at which birds fly--flight with burdens--experiments on the sizes of the wing in relation to flight--flight in "troops." v. courtship flights 53 the wing-play of black-game and grouse--the "musical ride" of the snipe--the "roding" of the woodcock--the musical flights of redshank and curlew--the "tumbling" of the lapwing--the raven's somersaults--the courting flight of the wood pigeon--the mannikin's "castanets"--wings as lures--the strange pose of the sun-bittern--the "wooing" of the chaffinch and the grasshopper-warbler--darwin and wing-displays--the wonderful wings of the argus-pheasant. vi. how to tell birds on the wing 71 the small perching-birds and the difficulty of distinguishing them--the wagtails--the finches--the buntings--the redstart-wheatear, stonechat--the thrushes--the warblers--the tit-mice--the nuthatch, and tree-creeper--the spotted flycatcher--the red-backed shrike--swallows, martins, and swifts--the night-jar--owls--woodpeckers. vii. how to tell birds on the wing 97 (_continued_) falcons--golden eagle--harriers and sparrow-hawk--the heron--the cormorant, shag, and gannet--the petrels--guillemots, razor-bills, and puffins--the ducks--the great crested grebe and dabchick--the pigeons--the "plover tribe"--the gulls and terns--the game birds. viii. the wings of nestling birds 117 the wing of the unhatched bird--of the coots and water-hen--the hoatzin's wings--the wing of archæopteryx--moulting--the nestling game-birds and ducks--teaching the young to fly. ix. flightless birds 127 the steamer duck--the owl parrot--the flightless grebe of titicaca--the dodo and solitaire--the ostrich tribe--the penguin's wings. illustrations coloured plates kingfisher and young _frontispiece_ jays _facing page_ 6 pheasants " " 22 brown owl " " 30 wild duck " " 38 woodcock carrying young " " 54 herons " " 64 chaffinch and young " " 76 gold-crested wrens " " 86 great spotted woodpeckers " " 92 some types of wings and tails " " 102 grouse " " 118 black and white plates swans, heron, geese _facing page_ 4 black-game " " 26 ducks " " 42 lapwings " " 58 some common birds _facing page_ 72 some types of birds in flight " " 80 birds of prey " " 106 flightless birds " " 130 line illustrations wings _page_ 13 archæopteryx and pterodactyles " 19 bat, beetle, dragon fly, etc. " 33 peregrine chasing duck " 51 sunbittern displaying " 69 drumming snipe " 95 buzzard soaring " 115 gulls " 125 vultures " 133 preface. there are hosts of people who have a genuine love of our native birds without yearning to possess their skins, or desiring to acquire the reputation of being "ornithologists." they would call them all by name if they could, but seek, alas! in vain, for some book wherein they will find some magic phrase which will enable them to identify every bird they meet by the wayside. most of our native birds have learnt that "discretion is the better part of valour," when in the neighbourhood of man. hence one gets but too often no more than a fleeting glance at their retreating forms, which, from frequent encounters, have become familiar, yet they leave no more than a vague image in the memory. "what bird _was_ that? i have often seen it but have never succeeded in taking it unawares." this is a question, and its comment, often put to me. those who are in this quandary, and they are many, are always hoping to find some book which will enable them to correctly name the retreating forms. that book will never be written. in the following pages an attempt is made to aid such enquirers, and at the same time the difficulties of the task are pointed out. it is hoped, however, that this attempt will find a welcome among those for whom it is made. if it helps them to understand something, at least, of the absorbing and fascinating problems which the study of flight in the animal kingdom presents, it will at least have served some useful purpose. the pursuit of the flying bird will inevitably stimulate a desire to know more about the bewildering changes of plumage presented at different seasons of the year, as well as by the striking differences which often distinguish the two sexes, and the immature birds. the endeavour to satisfy this desire will open up a new world. those who would pass to this knowledge should possess themselves of the "practical handbook of british birds." though most severely practical, and designed for the serious student alone, even the beginner will find interest in the description of these several plumages, and much else beside that it is essential to know. now that the study of flight is so much to the fore, some may turn to these pages in the hope of gaining useful information on the theme of mechanical flight. some help they may find. but it was not for this that they were written. the flight of an aeroplane and the flight of a bird have little in common--at present; though something may be learned by the study of gliding flight and soaring, which of course have their place in this book. but anatomical details and mechanical formulæ, necessary to the serious student of flight, would have been entirely out of place here, and they have been omitted. my task has been by no means easy. but it has been enormously helped by the extremely skilful and beautiful work of the artist, mr. roland green. where birds are concerned, few artists in the past, and very few in the present, have shown any ability to combine accuracy in drawing with ingenuity of composition and faithfulness in colouring. mr. green has shown this rare combination; his coloured plates and line-drawings speak for themselves. w. p. pycraft. _london_, _september, 1922_ chapter i. concerning wings. "divinity within them breeding wings wherewith to scorn the earth."--_milton._ what a wing is--the quill feathers and their function--the skeleton of the wing--the muscles of the wing--the great air-chambers of the body--the bat's wing--the wing of flying dragons--the wings of dragon-flies and beetles. the flight of birds has always aroused man's envy and stirred his imagination. david longed for the wings of a dove: the writer of the book of proverbs tells us that "the way of an eagle" surpasses his understanding. icarus, spurred on by dire necessity, actually, we are told, contrived to fly--but his maiden effort ended in disaster! to-day we have, in a sense, succeeded where he failed. but only because we have given up the idea of flight by personal effort, and make our aerial journeys in a flying machine. that we owe much of our success to a study of the flight of birds is common knowledge, but the machine which has evolved as a consequence of this study pursues its way through the air after a very different fashion from that of the birds, for its vast body is thrust, or drawn, through the air by means of a propeller, driven at incredible speed, its immobile wings sustaining the weight. the wings of the bird, on the other hand, not only lift the body from the earth, but they sustain it in the air by their marvellously complex movements. and this is true, in varying degrees of bird, and bat, and butterfly: of dragon-fly and beetle. even they who must perforce dwell in crowded cities see daily the miracle of flight performed. for even here sparrows and pigeons, at least, are everywhere, and it is just because this is so, just because they have become so "common-place," that their very presence escapes notice. yet the wonder of their movements in the air might become a never-ending source of delight if only we went about our business with open eyes and minds alert. watch the wary sparrow spring from the ground and dart across the road, or up to the nearest house-top. how is it done with such incredible speed and accuracy? to understand even the broad principles of flight, it is necessary to realize, at the very beginning, that the wing, in the case of the bird, or the bat, is a specially modified fore-leg. so also is the human arm and hand. but its transformation has not been so drastic as that of the bird, or the bat. wherein the hand has been, as it were, completely re-modelled to fulfil the peculiar and complex functions demanded of it. how should one describe the wing of a bird, as one sees it in flight? the dictionary, obscure and inaccurate as dictionaries usually are, defines a wing as "the organ of a bird, or other animal, or insect, by which it flies--any side-piece." might not the impression one gathers of a wing, during flight, be defined as of a lateral extension of the body, presenting a relatively large surface, but having no appreciable thickness? that surface, examined in a dead bird, is seen to be formed, for the most part, of a series of parallel, tapering, elastic rods, fringed with an innumerable series of smaller, similar, but much shorter rods, closely packed, and linked together by some invisible means to form an elastic web? these we call the "quill," or "flight-feathers." the rest of the wing, and the body itself, is clothed with precisely similar structures, differing only in their smaller size. we call them "feathers" commonly, without realizing that they are the "hall-mark" of the bird, for no other creature has ever been similarly clothed. these quill-feathers play such a tremendously important part in flight that their arrangement, and relation to the underlying skeleton must be carefully examined by all who would understand the flight of birds. to begin with, then, note that they are so arranged as to overlap one another, the free edges of the quills facing the outer edge of the wing. only by this arrangement would flight be possible, for on the upstroke of the wing through the air the quills act like the shutters of the sails of a windmill, allowing the wind to pass between them and so relieving pressure on the uplifting wing-stroke. on the down-stroke, the opposite effect is produced. the full force of the stroke is conserved, because, owing to the overlap, the several feathers are now pressed closely together to form an impervious sheet. how are they fixed to the skeleton? to see this all the smaller feathers and the muscles, or "flesh" of the wing must be removed. it will then be found that the flight-feathers are divisible into two series. one, widely spaced, runs along the upper surface of the fore-arm: the other, closely packed, along what answers to the back of the hand. in effect this is but a single rod of bone, but it is composed of three elements, answering to three of the digits of the human hand--the thumb and the first and second fingers. but they are scarcely recognizable as such, for the thumb is reduced to a mere stump, while the two fingers have become welded together. the third finger, indeed, has become reduced to the palm-bone, and a short stump answering to the first finger joint. to this frame-work, which can be folded up into the shape of a z when the bird is at rest, the quills are fixed by their base by means of slender, but very strong elastic tendons. in birds which have a long upper arm bone, like the albatross, gull, or heron, there is a third series of long, almost "quill-like" feathers running from the elbow to the body, thus closing up what would otherwise be a gap between the wing surface and the body, rendering flight impossible. [illustration: swans. heron. geese. ] the most important muscles of the wing are those which have to provide the power for the down-stroke of the wing. and these are the "pectoral" or "breast-muscles"--which form such dainty meat in a roast fowl. owing to their great bulk the breast-bone itself would be insufficient to afford them attachment. this is furnished by the development of a deep, median keel, so that the breast-bone of a bird, such as a pigeon, bears a fanciful resemblance, when seen in profile, to the hull of a ship--unusually shallow--with a very deep keel. the front end of the breast-bone supports two slender rods of bone, and these in their turn support the long, sword-like blade-bone, and the "merry-thought." the general appearance of this frame-work for the support of the wing and its muscles can be seen in the adjoining illustrations. but it must be remembered that in their relative sizes and disposition these various parts present a very considerable range of differences. that these differences are correllated with different forms of flight goes without saying, but, be it noted, no one, as yet, has attempted to discover in what way they are related. some of the readers of this book may, perhaps, be tempted to try and solve the problems which these differences present. to begin with, a collection of breast bones of different species of birds with their attached shoulder-girdles should be made, and these should be studied together with careful observations of the flight of the living bird. so far only a few comparisons of this kind have been made. it must not be supposed that the whole secret of flight in birds is concentrated in the skeleton of the breast-bone and its shoulder-girdle, and the muscles attached thereto. but those who would investigate the modifications of the rest of the body which have taken place in harmony with the requirements of flight, must turn to more learned treatises. there is, however, one point which demands notice here. and this is the popular belief that birds have the power of materially reducing their weight when on the wing by drawing air into their lungs, and storing it in large air-chambers enclosed within the body. these chambers are indeed concerned with the needs of flight. but the precise part they play is yet to be discovered. they certainly have no effect of rendering the body lighter. so far as our knowledge goes it would seem that they act as regulators of the temperature and as reservoirs of breathing air, during the strenuous efforts of flight. [illustration: _jays_] it is a mistake to suppose that it is unnecessary to consider other kinds of flight when studying that of birds. even those who are not interested in the abstruse problems of the mechanism of bird's flight, will find that comparisons made between birds, bats, butterflies and beetles when on the wing, are immensely interesting, and help to bring out the peculiarities of each. during the twilight hours of a still summer evening one may compare, with advantage, the rushing swoop of the screaming swift, borne with lightning speed upon long, ribbon-like pinions, with the curiously erratic flight of the woolly bat with beaded eyes, who has ventured abroad for his evening meal. one cannot but feel astonishment at the marvellous dexterity with which he twists and turns, now shooting up into the sky, now darting downward. what bird can beat him, or even match him, in the art of doubling back on his tracks? and one can put his skill at lightning turns to the test if one attempts to catch him in a butterfly net. often indeed have i attempted this feat, but never yet with success. in the glare of noon-day this aerial athlete may perhaps be found in a deep slumber, hanging head downwards behind the shutters of a cottage window, or in some crevice of a barn-roof. gently seize him and as gently stretch out his wing. the moment one opens it one sees that it is constructed upon a totally different plan from that of a bird. in the first place a thin membrane, or fold of skin is seen to take the place of the series of quill-feathers found in the wing of the bird. in the second it will be found that this membrane is stretched between a series of long and very slender bony rods. these are excessively attenuated fingers. and if the hinder border of the wing-membrane be traced inwards it will be found to be attached to the hind limb. in some species it will be found that this membrane passes backwards beyond the leg to attach itself to the tail. here, then, is a wing as efficient for its purpose as that of a bird, but constructed on a totally different plan. ages ago, before even the birds or the beasts had appeared on the earth, the winged dragons, which the men of science call pterodactyles, held the proud position of being, not only the first, but the only creatures blessed with a backbone that could fly. their wings resembled those of the bats, but differed in this, that instead of the wing-membrane being stretched between all the fingers, leaving only the thumb free, it was attached only to the fifth finger, leaving the remaining fingers free, and these were reduced to mere vestiges. as with the birds, the breast-bone was very broad and was furnished with a keel, while in the bats it takes the form of a jointed rod, down which no more than a slight keel is ever developed. but millions of years before the flying-dragons, birds, and bats came into being, the stupendous problem of flight had been solved. far away in the distant devonian epoch, when the distribution of land and water over the earth's surface was totally different from that of to-day, dragon-flies and caddis-flies disported themselves in the summer sun, amid landscapes that would seem strange to our eyes. for there were no trees and flowering plants, such as we know. * * * * * the dragon-flies of that remote epoch were very like those of to-day, whose dancing flights and graceful, swooping movements are such a delight to watch by reed-fringed pools, or river-banks, during the sweltering days of summer. this flight is very different from that of a bird, though it would be hard to say precisely in what it differs. but we have no such difficulty in regard to the broad outlines of the mechanism of such flight. to begin with there are two pairs of wings, and these appear to be fashioned out of some curiously gauze-like material, a sort of mesh-work tissue, often strikingly coloured. and they are obviously driven after a very different fashion from those of the bird. for in the bird they are moved by quivering muscles, attached to a bony, internal skeleton. in the dragon-fly--as with all insects--the hard skeleton, composed of a material known as "chitin," forms the outside of the body and encloses the muscles. finally, for we may not dwell very long over this aspect of flight, it is clear that the wings cannot have been derived from modified fore-legs, like those of the bat, or the bird. rather, it would seem, they have developed out of plate-like breathing organs. the restful twilight hours of summer tempt not only bats from their hiding places, but a host of other winged creatures which are rarely to be seen, or heard, during the glare of noon. among these is the lumbering dor-beetle, who, with lazy drone steers clear of solid objects only with difficulty. many, indeed, are his failures. he and his kin are no match for bats and owls, who find them juicy morsels! on the next opportunity catch one and examine him. his wings are curiously interesting. there are the usual two pairs: but the fore-wings have been changed to serve as covers for the hind-wings. during flight they are spread outwards, and indirectly, no doubt, assist flight. but the hind-wings are the real propellers. and it will be noticed that when not in use they can be folded up in a perfectly wonderful manner, so as to lie completely underneath the fore-wings, or "elytra," so that when the creature is crawling it appears to be wingless. now compare these with the transparent wings of the bee, or the gorgeously scale-covered wings of the butterfly. it is well worth while. if this examination be done very carefully, and with the aid of a magnifying glass, it will be found that the fore and hind wings are yoked together in the wing of the bee, by a delicate mechanism of hooks. in the moths, but not in the butterflies, a bristle, or sometimes two or three bristles, serve the same purpose. further, in the case of the bee it will be found that the fore-wing, when at rest, is folded longitudinally back upon itself. finally, turn to the flies. herein it will be seen that there is but a single pair of wings, the hind pair having become reduced to mere stumps, known as "balancers." much, very much more, might have been said of these wings: but our conversation is of birds. we cannot, however, properly appreciate either the essential characters of their wings, or their flight, without some such standards of comparison as is afforded by the wings of other creatures. [illustration: a primaries. b secondaries. c tectrices. d bastard wing. the upper figure shows the under side of wing with the coverts removed to show attachment of flight feathers to skeleton. the lower figure shows the quill or flight feathers and the coverts in their natural condition.] chapter ii the first bird. "and let fowl fly above the earth; with wings displayed in the open firmanent of heaven."--_milton._ the ancestors of birds--the first known bird and its many remarkable features--the gradual evolution of the birds of to-day. sooner or later all bird-lovers find themselves pondering over the problem of the origin of birds: how they evolved their peculiar covering of feathers: what was the fashion of the original arm and hand out of which the wing was fashioned: and finally, whence have the birds been derived? since these pages are avowedly devoted to the subject of flight, any attempt to summarize the state of our knowledge on these aspects of the history of birds would be in the nature of a trespass on the space, of necessity limited, which even a cursory survey of flight demands. let it suffice, then, to say, that birds are descended from reptiles. the skeleton of modern birds bears undubitable testimony of this. for we have the evidence furnished us by the remains of two remarkable skeletons, belonging to that very wonderful reptile-like bird, archæopteryx. only two skeletons of this wonderful bird are known, and they were obtained, many years ago, from the solenhofen, or lithographic slates of bavaria. the wing and tail-feathers are as perfectly developed as in modern birds. but these precious fossils present two characters which have long since been lost by birds. the first of these is the presence of well developed teeth in the jaws. the birds of to-day have horny beaks. the teeth bespeak the reptile. the second is the long, tapering tail, which is composed of a series of cylindrical bones, forming a lizard-like appendage. but each bone, be it noted, supported a pair of stiff, tail-quills, so that the tail of this ancient bird, in its general appearance, differs in a very striking way from that of a modern bird, wherein these feathers seem all to spring from a common base, fan-wise. but as a matter of fact this appearance is deceptive, for the large bone, or "pygostyle" which supports the tail feathers of the adult, is found, in the embryo, to be made up of a series of separate pieces, agreeing in number with those of the tail of the fossil ancestor, archæopteryx. each of these separate bones has, in fact, in the course of the ages, been shortened up to the condition of mere discs; and this "telescoping" of the vertebræ has brought the once separated feathers close up, so that their bases lie packed in like the spokes of a fan. as a result, a much more efficient tail for the needs of flight has come into being. and the tail, it must be remembered, plays, especially in some birds, an important part. but this is not all. we have now to consider the wing. in all essentials this agrees with that of living birds. and this agreement is strikingly close when it is compared with the embryonic and early nestling stages. a detailed account of these resemblances, and differences, would be out of place here. suffice it to say that its closest modern counterparts are to be found in the wing of the nestling of that strange south american bird, the hoatzin, and the "game-birds," such as of a young pheasant, or a young fowl. the evidence these can furnish in this matter of the evolution of the birds wing will be found in chapter vi. for the moment it will be more profitable to discuss the broad outlines of the origin of flight, so far as this is possible. on this theme there are, as might be supposed, many opinions--some of them bearing little relation to fact. the feet of archæopteryx, it is important to remember, bear a very extraordinary likeness to the feet of a "perching" bird, say that of a crow. they are without any semblance of doubt, the feet of a bird which lived in trees. archæopteryx, then, was an arboreal bird. and this being so, the most reasonable hypothesis of the origin of flight is that it developed out of "gliding" movements, made for the purpose of passing from the topmost branches of one tree to the lower branches of another, after the mode of the "flying-squirrels," and "flying-lemur" of to-day. the wing, at this primitive stage of its evolution, was even then, probably, a three-fingered limb, provided with a broad fringe of incipient feathers along its hinder border. at this stage the body would have been less bird-like than that of archæopteryx, and have been still more like that of the ancestral reptilian stock from which the birds have sprung. that feathers are, so to speak, glorified reptilian scales cannot be certainly demonstrated, but men of science are generally agreed that this was their origin. by the time that archæopteryx had come into being, true flight had been arrived at, though probably it could not have been long sustained. as these primitive birds increased in numbers, and spread from the woodlands to the open country, life became more strenuous. new enemies had to be evaded, longer journeys had to be made for food. only the very best performers on the wing could survive, and thus, in each generation, the failures would be speedily weeded out, while competition among the survivors would raise the standard. we see the result of this "struggle for existence" in the many and varied types of wings, and of flight, which are presented in this book. [illustration: archæopteryx. pterodactyles.] chapter iii. the sizes and shapes of wings and their relation to flight. "... the fowls of heaven have wings, and blasts of heaven will aid their flight: * * * * * chains tie us down by land and sea."--_wordsworth._ the evasiveness of flight--the size of the wing in relation to that of the body--noisy flight--"muffled" flight--the swoop of the sparrow-hawk--the "flighting" of ducks--the autumn gatherings of starlings and swallows--"soaring" flights of storks and vultures--the wonderful "sailing" feats of the albatross--the "soaring" of the skylark--the "plunging" flight of the gannet, tern, and kingfisher. who needs to be told that birds fly? so common-place has this fact become that the many, and varied forms of wings, and the peculiarities of flight which are associated with these differences, are rarely perceived. even sculptors, and artists show a hopeless unfamiliarity with the shapes of wings, and their meanings, at any rate, as a general rule. look at their attempts to display birds in flight, or in the fanciful use of wings which convention has ascribed to angels. for the most part these superbly beautiful appendages are atrociously rendered. yet it must be confessed that any attempt to explain exactly how birds fly must fail. we can do no more than state the more obvious factors which are indispensable to flight, and the nature of its mechanism. the subtleties, and delicate adjustments of actual flight evade us. our appreciation, however, of this supreme mode of locomotion will be materially quickened, if we make a point of studying the varied forms of flight as opportunities present themselves. to begin with, it is worth noting that the size of the wing decreases with the weight of the body to be lifted--up to a certain point, of course. this, perhaps, may seem strange a statement to make. but it can be readily verified. compare, for example, the size of the body in relation to the wings, in the case of the butterfly and the dragon-fly, on the one hand, and the partridge and the crow, on the other. the two first named, by comparison, have enormous wings. birds, it will be noticed, which haunt woods, or thickets, have short, rounded wings, like the wren, the pheasant, or the tawny owl. such, on the other hand, as live in the open, like the gull, and the swallow, have long, pointed wings. the reason for this is fairly plain. birds which must steer their course through the intricate mazes of a wood, or thicket, would find their flight seriously hampered by long wings. [illustration: _pheasants_] these general principles once realized, a foundation is laid on which one may base observations on the peculiarities of flight distinguishing different types of birds. most of us, probably, at one time or another, in taking a walk through the woods, have been startled, almost out of our wits, by a sudden "whirr" of wings at our very feet; made by some crouching pheasant, waiting till the very last moment before revealing himself, by taking flight. this alarming noise is due to the shortness and stiffness of the quill, or flight-feathers. with pinions moving with incredible speed, the bird is off like a rocket. not seldom, probably, it owes its life to this ability to disconcert its enemies, till it has put a safe distance between itself and danger. by way of contrast, let us take the absolutely silent, easy movements of the owl, stealing forth in the twilight of a summer's evening, seeking whom he may devour. here, again, we have a meaning in the mode of flight. here silence is more than golden: it means life itself. nimble-footed, sharp-eared mice and rats, must be snatched up before even the breath of suspicion can reach them. the uncanny silence of this approach is rendered possible, only by what may be called a "muffling" of the wings. for the flight-feathers are not only of great breadth, but they are covered, as it were, with velvet-pile, the "barbules" of the wing-quills, which form the agents by which the "web" of the quill is held together, having their upper spurs produced into long, thread-like processes, which extinguishes any possibility of a warning "swish." john bright, in one of his magnificent perorations, caused his spell-bound listeners to catch their breath, when, conjuring up a vision of the angel of death, he remarked "we can almost hear the rustle of his wings." one realizes the vividness of that imagery, when one hears, as on rare occasions one may, the awe-inspiring rustle of the death-dealing swoop of the falcon, or the sparrow-hawk, as he strikes down his victim. but the swish, and whistle of wings often stirs the blood with delicious excitement, as, when one is out on some cold, dark night, "flighting." that is to say, awaiting mallard passing overhead on the way to their feeding ground, or in watching the hordes of starlings, or swallows, settling down to roost in a reed-bed. no words can describe these sounds, but those to whom they are familiar know well the thrill of enjoyment they beget. there is no need, here, to muffle the sound of the wing-beat. the falcon vies with the lightning in his speed, escape is well nigh hopeless: neither have the swallows need for silence; indeed, on these occasions, they add, to the music of their wings, the enchantment of their twittering. so much for flight in its more general aspects. let us turn now to a survey of some of the more remarkable forms of flight, beginning with that known as "soaring." this but few birds have mastered, and to-day it is rarely to be seen in our islands, for eagles, falcons, and buzzards are, unfortunately, only to be found in a few favoured localities. happily, however, one may yet realize the delight of watching a soaring buzzard, or raven, among the hills of westmorland, or in parts of cornwall and wales. but to see the past-masters in the art, one must seek the haunts of pelicans, vultures, and adjutant storks. the last-named is perhaps the finest performer of them all. for the first hundred feet or so he rises by rapid and powerful strokes of the wings, and then, apparently without the slightest effort, or the suspicion of a wing-beat, he sweeps round in great spirals, gaining some ten or twenty feet with each gyration, the wings and tail all the while being fully extended and the primary feathers widely separated at their tips. during the first part of every turn he is flying slightly downward: at the end of the descent he sweeps round and faces the wind, which carries him upward. round, round, he goes, mounting ever higher and higher, until at last he attains a height of perhaps two miles. the adjutant thus goes aloft apparently for the mere delight the movement affords him. but not so with the vulture, who is a close rival in this art. he soars for his very existence, for dead bodies are not to be found everywhere. possessing powers of sight infinitely greater than ours, he mounts aloft for the purpose of taking observations. if nothing "toothsome" can be seen from his vast range, he turns his attention to the movements of such of his fellows as may be up on the same errand miles away. should he see one swooping earthwards he instantly tracks him down, and is soon at the feast. this accounts for the mysterious way in which vultures will gather together to the feast, in a place where an hour ago not one was to be seen. a caravan of camels, perchance, is making its toilsome way across a burning desert. one falls by the way. in a few hours its bones will be picked clean by a horde of these ravenous birds. longfellow sang the song of the vultures hunting in stately verse:- "never stoops the soaring vulture on his quarry in the desert, on the sick or wounded bison, but another vulture, watching from his high aerial look-out, sees the downward plunge and follows, and a third pursues the second, coming from the invisible ether, first a speck, and then a vulture, till the air is thick with pinions." [illustration: black-game.] darwin, in his wonderful "journal of a voyage round the world" gives a marvellously vivid word-picture of the largest, and most interesting of all the vultures, the condor of the andes--one of the largest of flying birds, having a wing-span of something over nine feet:-"when the condors are wheeling in a flock round and round any spot, their flight is beautiful. except when rising from the ground, i do not recollect ever having seen one of these birds flap its wings. near lima, i watched several for nearly half an hour, without once taking off my eyes; they moved in large curves, sweeping in circles, descending and ascending without giving a single flap. as they glided close over my head, i intently watched, from an oblique position, the outlines of the separate and great terminal feathers of each wing; and these separate feathers, if there had been the least vibratory movement, would have appeared as if blended together; but they were seen distinctly against the blue sky. the head and neck were moved frequently, and, apparently, with force, and the extended wings seemed to form the fulcrum on which the movements of the neck, body, and the tail acted. if the bird wished to descend, the wings for a moment collapsed; and then again expanded with an altered inclination, the momentum gained by the rapid descent seemed to urge the bird upwards with the even and steady movement of a paper kite. in the case of any bird _soaring_, its motion must be sufficiently rapid, so that the action of the inclined surface of its body on the atmosphere may counterbalance its gravity. the force to keep up the momentum of a body moving in a horizontal plane in the air (in which there is so little friction) cannot be great, and this force is all that is wanted. the movement of the neck and body of the condor, we must suppose, is sufficient for this. however this may be, it is truly wonderful and beautiful to see so great a bird, hour after hour, without apparent exertion, wheeling and gliding over mountain and river." those who "go down to the sea in ships" have to face many perils, but the "wonders of the great deep" are for them a lure. one of these is to watch the marvellous "sailing" flights of the wandering albatross. his wings have, when expanded, a peculiarly "ribbon-like" form, and measure from tip to tip, over eleven feet--thus exceeding that of the condor, which, however, is the heavier bird of the two. the "ribbon-like" form of the wings is due to the extreme shortness of the flight-quills--the primaries and secondaries, and the great length of the arm and fore-arm. and it may be to these structural peculiarities that the "sailing" flight just alluded to is due. resembling soaring in many of its aspects, yet it differs materially in that it is performed low down, not at immense heights. the most graphic description of these movements is surely that of mr. froude: "the albatross," he tells us, "wheels in circles round and round, and for ever round the ship--now far behind, now sweeping past in a long rapid curve, like a perfect skater on a perfect field of ice. there is no effort; watch as closely as you will, you will rarely see, or never see, a stroke of the mighty pinion. the flight is generally near the water, often close to it. you lose sight of the bird as he disappears in the hollow between the waves, and catch him again as he rises over the crest; but how he rises, and whence comes the propelling force, is, to the eye, inexplicable; he alters merely the angle at which the wings are inclined; usually they are parallel to the water and horizontal; but when he turns to ascend, or makes a change in his direction, the wings then point at an angle, one to the sky, the other to the water." one sometimes hears the skylark described as "soaring" upwards, when performing that wonderful musical ride which has made him so famous. but as, spell-bound, one listens to his rapturous strains, and watches his spiral ascent, one cannot help noticing that his wings are never still, they seem almost to be "beating time" to his music. in true soaring they are scarcely ever moved. the upward progress of a bird when soaring is, of necessity, comparatively slow. but in what we may call "plunging" flight the case is very different, for here the velocity of the descent is great. the frigate-birds of tropical seas, and the gannet of our own, display this mode of flight to perfection. it is worth going far to see a gannet dive. travelling at a relatively considerable height, and eagerly scanning the surface of the water for signs of a shoal of fish, this amazing bird dives with the speed of lightning, and with half-spread wings disappears with a terrific plunge beneath the surface, to emerge, an instant later, with his prey. one can measure the force of such a plunge by the cruel trick, sometimes played by fishermen, of fastening a herring to a board, and setting it adrift where gannets are about. the unsuspecting victim descends as usual upon his prey, only to meet instant death by the shock of his impact with the board. those who talk glibly of identifying birds by their flight may point to this wonderful diver as a case in point. but while one may often see the gannet on the wing, it is by no means so often that one will have the good fortune to see him dive, for he is not always hungry. his white body, pointed tail, and black quill-feathers would then enable the novice to name him at once. but--in his immature plumage, he would, at a little distance, appear black, and unless he were fishing, the chances of recognition would be by no means great. close at hand he would appear speckled with white. [illustration: _brown owl_] but this by the way. there are two other birds which dive from a height on the wing. one of these is the kingfisher: the other is the tern. the term "tern" is here used collectively, for there are several species, but all have this habit of diving from a height. during the summer months one may be quite sure of an opportunity of watching the graceful, easy flight of at least three species. for they haunt the sea-shore, river, and lake with equal impartiality. those who are on the look-out for terns, for the first time, will easily recognise them. for, in the first place they look like miniature gulls, but with longer and more pointed wings, and forked tails. further, all have a characteristic black cap. they travel in small parties, as if for company, keeping no more than a yard or two from the surface of the water, and scanning it eagerly in search of shoals of small fish, or crustacea. as these are found one will note a quickening of the wing-beat, and a sudden dive, like that of the gannet, with half-closed wings. and sometimes, too, the impetus will take them completely under water. [illustration: 1 bat 2 butterfly 3 beetle 4 dragon-fly 5 bone of birds wing, showing the three divisions, arm--fore-arm--hand. 6 breast bone of swan 7 " " " pigeon 8 " " " pelican 9 & 10 apteryx, cassowary (degenerate wings). ] chapter iv. modes of flight. "the soaring lark is blest as proud when at heaven's gate she sings: the roving bee proclaims aloud her flight by vocal wings."--_wordsworth._ the movements of the wing in flight--marey's experiments--stopping and turning movements--alighting--"taking off"--hovering--the use of the tail in flight--the carriage of the neck in flight--and of the legs--the flight of petrels--the speed of flight--the height at which birds fly--flight with burdens--experiments on the sizes of the wing in relation to flight--flight in "troops." while it is possible to show that certain kinds of flight are to be associated with such and such peculiarities of the skeleton, and the muscles attached thereto, there are many "eccentricities" which cannot be measured, and explained, in terms of mechanism. the very disconcerting, twisting, flight of the snipe is one of these. the sportsman knows it well: and he knows that the twisting, during which the bird turns the body half over--that is with, say, the left wing pointing directly downwards, and the right wing directly upwards--is only the preliminary to getting fully on the way, and that, presently, it will pursue a straight course, with arrow-like speed. yet its cousin, the jack-snipe, never twists. why does the woodcock invariably drop after a charge of shot, even though not a pellet has touched it, while a snipe pursues its way? these differences are not merely differences of "habit": they indicate subtle differences in nervous response to the same kind of stimulus, and in structural details yet to be unravelled. some day the cinematograph will reveal to us all the phases of flight and the movements to which they are due. even now, thanks to the modern camera, we have learned a great deal. we have learned, for example, that the flight of a bird is not effected merely by rapid up and down movements of the fully extended wings, or with flexed wings--that is to say, half closed, as in "gliding" flight when a bird is descending, or in the swoop of, say, the sparrow-hawk. only in one of these two positions do we ever seem to see the wings when we have to trust to our eyes alone, as the bird hurries past us. the impression that we have seen aright is confirmed when we stand on the deck of a steamer, and watch the gulls following in its wake. for incredibly long distances they will travel without a perceptible wing-beat. the albatross is the finest of all performers in regard to this kind of flight, which is due, apparently, to air currents created by stiff breezes, or gales. some birds seem to make their way against a head-wind with the minimum of effort, by partly flexing the wings and gliding downwards: at the end of the descent, by turning the body sharply upwards, and spreading the wings to the fullest extent, they are lifted up, and driven forward, like a kite. marey and pettigrew, long ago, showed conclusively, by means of photography, that our conception of the movement of the wing during flight was far from correct. to avoid a long and tedious description, and many technicalities, it must suffice to say that the wing of a bird possesses very considerable freedom and range of movement at the shoulder joint. certainly, during some phases of flight, the wings are thrust forward and extended to their fullest extent, so that the outer margins of the wings come to lie almost parallel with the long axis of the body, as may be seen in the spirited illustration showing the goshawk in flight. as they sweep downwards, and backwards, they lift the body and drive it forwards. at the end of the "sweep" they are "flexed," that is to say, bent at the elbow and wrist-joints, while at the same time they are raised and brought forward above the body for a repetition of the stroke. these movements are too quick for the eye to follow, but they have been fixed for us by the camera. marey devised an ingenious experiment in his endeavour to discover the movements of the bird's wing during flight. he fastened a small piece of paper to the tip of a crows wing, and as the bird flew in front of a perfectly black screen he took a photograph of this moving speck of white, while, of course, no image of the crow appeared on the plate. the resultant picture gave a series of "figure of 8 loops" as one would make this figure with a pen, contriving to make the lower loop very small, and the upper loop very large. but as the wing-beat increased in speed the lower loop gradually faded out. these movements of the wing, however, are descriptive rather of what takes place during very vigorous flight, as when the bird is getting up "steam." when he is well under way there is no need for these long and very tiring strokes, except in the case of birds like the pheasant or the duck. a gull, when in full career does not, apparently, raise the wings very high, nor depresses them very low, nor does it flex the wings at the wrist-joints. stopping and turning movements are generally extremely difficult to follow, because they are performed so quickly. they can be seen fairly easily in the case of some of the larger birds. ducks, as is well shown in one of our coloured plates, draw the head backwards, tilt the body upward, thrust the feet forward, and spread the tail, at the same time turning it forwards. gulls and pigeons too may be watched with profit. [illustration: _wild duck_] in turning, the body is tilted sideways, so that the tip of one wing points skywards, the other earthwards, as in the case of the goshawk illustrated in this book. the pigeon, and some other birds seem further to spread out the long, stiff quills borne by the thumb, which form what is known as the "bastard-wing." this turning movement is well shown, again, in the very realistic coloured picture of the woodcock turning in mid-air, and bearing too the burden of one of its nestlings. if it is difficult to satisfy oneself as to the way in which a bird alights, it is no less so to detect its movements in taking wing. most of us must have seen sparrows making this effort from the road, thousands of times. but ask of anyone, how is it done? the act takes place so quickly that the eye cannot follow its execution. and what is true of the sparrow is true of most birds. but there are some where this is not the case. many water-birds, the cormorant, for example, get under way but slowly, and with evident effort. they flap along the surface for some distance before they gain sufficient impetus to lift them into the air. and there are many long-winged, short-legged birds which can rise from a level surface only with great difficulty, or not at all. the swift is one of these, for its legs are excessively short. the albatross is another: and this is true, indeed, of many of the petrel-tribe. the puffin, again, seems unable to rise on the wing from the ground. it appears invariably to run along until it reaches the edge of cliff which lodges its burrow, and then, as it were, throw itself over the edge. the heron, when springing into the air, stretches his long neck out to its fullest extent, and presents a pair of dangling legs, well shown in one of our coloured plates, but when once fully on the way its pose entirely changes, the neck being drawn in and the legs thrust out backwards. flight does not always mean progress through the air. most birds can, at need, arrest their course, and hang, as it were, suspended in the air. in the beautiful coloured plate, representing the chaffinch hovering over its half-fledged young, and in that of the kingfisher and its young, this form of "hovering" flight can be seen. but the greatest of all exponents in the art of hovering is the kestrel, known also, for this very reason, as the "windhover." it is most fascinating to watch this bird hang, as it were, from the clouds, motionless, yet with quivering wings, as he scans the ground below in his search for some unsuspecting mouse. it is hard, indeed, to say which is the more wonderful, this power of remaining stationary for comparatively long periods in the air, or the surprising powers of sight which this bird possesses. during these hovering movements, always head to wind, it will be noted, the tail plays a very important part, being spread to its extremest limit, and at the same time thrust forward beneath the body. in some birds this forward movement is more marked than in others. and this because such birds possess a somewhat more flexible spine, there being a certain amount of "play" where the vertebræ of the loins join the welded mass of vertebræ which lie between the bones of the hip-girdle. but the tail feathers are not indispensable. this much is shown in the case of birds like the kingfisher, the water-hen, and the land-rail, which contrive to fly well, and at a great pace, though they have but the merest apology for a tail. more than this, the grebes have no tail at all. but it is to be noted that they are by no means adept at turning movements; owing to the lack of this appendage the body, when in mid-air, has a curiously truncated appearance, as may be seen in the illustration. further, it is significant that in the contemptible "sport" of pigeon-shooting from traps, the birds are deprived of their tails to prevent them from making turning movements. the carriage of the head and neck, and of the legs, during flight presents some interesting, and some instructing contrasts. ducks, geese, and swans, flamingoes, storks, and cormorants always fly with the head and neck stretched out to their fullest extent. herons and pelicans, though also long-necked birds, draw the head back till it rests almost on the shoulders. most birds, indeed, fly with the head drawn back towards the body. the appearance of some of these birds on the wing can be seen at a glance on turning to the page illustrating this aspect of flight. not so very long ago a great controversy was waged as to what birds did with their legs during flight. many of the older artists invariably depicted them drawn up under the breast. but as a matter of fact, this method seems to be confined to the passerine birds--the "perching birds," such as crows and finches and their kin. it has yet to be settled what obtains among what are known as the "picarian" birds, such as kingfishers, bee-eaters, woodpeckers, and so on. the legs and feet of these birds are so small, and their flight is so rapid, that the matter is by no means an easy one to settle. but all other birds carry the legs and toes bent backwards, under the tail. in the gulls, this can easily be seen, and easier still in the case of the common heron, where they are, as it were, trailed out behind--owing to the shortness of the tail and the great length of the leg. the puffin carries them "splayed" out on each side of his tail, and so also do his kinsmen, the razor-bills, and guillemots. the legs, as a rule, take no part in flight. true, they can be seen thrust out just before alighting, but this is solely for the purpose of effecting a safe landing. but where gulls can be watched at close quarters, as in harbours, round a ship, or in such favoured spots as are to be found about the bridges of london during the winter, careful watch will show that the legs are frequently used when efforts are being made to turn, or check the speed of flight. some of the smaller petrels--like the storm-petrel, or "mother carey's chickens," will patter over the water with their feet as they fly just over the surface of the waves. [illustration: _sketches of ducks in flight 1922_ 1. } } scaup. 1a. } 2. goldeneye. 3. } } pochard. 4. } 5. } to } mallard. 10. } ] whether the legs are carried drawn close up beneath the breast, or thrust backwards under the tail, the purpose of this disposal is the same--to prevent any interference with the "stream-lines" of the body which would impede flight. on the matter of the speed of flight there seems to be much misconception. gätke, the german ornithologist, gravely asserted that the little arctic blue-throat--one of our rarer british birds--could leave its winter resort in africa in the dusk of evening, and arrive at heligoland--where he spent so many years studying bird migration--nine hours later. that is to say it could travel 1,600 geographical miles in a single night, at the astounding velocity of 180 miles an hour! according to another estimate of his, curlews, godwits, and plovers crossed from heligoland to the oyster-beds lying to the eastward, a known distance of rather more than four english miles, in one minute; or at the rate of over 240 miles an hour. against such extravagant estimates it is hardly necessary to bring rebutting evidence. but if any be demanded it may be furnished by the carrier pigeon, which has been known to maintain a speed of 55 miles an hour for four hours in succession: and it is extremely unlikely that this is much, if at all, exceeded by any wild bird during long-distance flights. that our spring and autumn migrants must possess wonderful powers of endurance is beyond question. and it is equally certain that thousands must perish by the way. by this means is the standard of flight maintained--the weak perish. even the minimum standard of efficiency for the survival of such an ordeal must be a high one. few of us see anything of these marvellous migration flights. for, in the first place, they are generally performed at night, and at a great height, often beyond the range of human vision. only as they approach land, and their destination, do they descend. american naturalists have made some interesting observations by directing a telescope against the sky. thus, mr. frank chapman, by turning his instrument towards the full moon, has seen birds passing at night at an altitude, according to his computation, of five miles: while the late mr. w. e. d. scott saw, through an astronomical telescope at princeton, new jersey, great numbers of birds passing across the face of the moon--warblers, finches, and woodpeckers among them. mr. chapman again, on another occasion, saw no less than 262 birds pass over the field of his telescope at a height of from 1,500 to 15,000 feet: and the most remarkable thing of all was the fact that the lowest birds were flying upwards, as if they had risen from the immediate neighbourhood and were seeking the proper elevation to continue their flight. as has already been remarked, when nearing their destination migrating birds descend, though still many miles from land. should a gale be raging they fly so low that they barely top the waves. and this, apparently, to escape, so far as is possible, the force of the wind. larks, starlings, thrushes, and other small birds, can sometimes be seen during daylight crossing the north sea in their thousands. at such times many will often afford themselves a brief rest in the rigging of ships, homeward bound, but the main host hurry on. the beautiful golden crested wren, our smallest british migrant, is one of these. a glance at our charming coloured plate will show at once that the wing is not that of a bird of strong flight. there is no more interesting experience to the bird-lover than that of watching the tired travellers drop earthwards, as they leave the dreadful sea behind them. with all birds yet retaining the power of flight there is always a liberal "margin of safety" in regard to the wing area. that is to say this is always in excess of the minimum area necessary to make flight possible. this much, indeed, is manifest from the fact that the eagle can bear off a victim equalling himself in weight. should he miscalculate, he can always drop his burden, or lessen its weight by eating part of it on the spot. not so the osprey, or the sea-eagle, which have been known to plunge down and drive their talons into fishes too large to be raised. unable to release their grip, death, by drowning, has inevitably followed. sometimes the burden is a passenger, instead of a victim. one of the most striking of the coloured plates in this volume is that of a woodcock carrying one of its nestlings to a distant feeding place. this habit is well known. it is not often that the necessity arises, but there are occasions where suitable nesting and feeding grounds cannot be found together, or when, as during prolonged drought, the normal feeding area dries up. then, instinctively, the parent will surmount the dangers of starvation for their offspring, by conveying them to a land of plenty, returning again to the shelter of the wood as soon as the meal is over. the weight of a newly-hatched nestling, it is true, could scarcely be called a "burden." but they are carried about thus until they are strong enough to perform the journey for themselves. thus, then, towards the end of the nursing period the weight to be carried is by no means a light one. but it was shown, long since, by direct experiment, that the area of a bird's wing is considerably in excess of what is required for the purpose of flight. dr. j. bell pettigrew, more than fifty years ago, to test this matter, cut off more than half of the secondary wing feathers of a sparrow, parallel with the long axis of the wing. he first clipped one, then both wings, and found that in both cases flight was apparently unimpaired. he then removed a fourth of the primary feathers--the outermost quills--and still the flight was unimpaired. at any rate the bird flew upwards of thirty yards, rose to a considerable height and alighted in a tree. thirty yards, however, is a short flight even for a sparrow. but it is enough to show that flight, if not _sustained_ flight, was possible after this mutilation. not until more than one-third of the quills along the whole length of the wing were removed, did the flight become obviously laboured. and he found that what was true of the sparrow, was equally true of the wings of insects. though these experiments demonstrate, in a very unmistakable manner, that flight with a greatly reduced wing area is possible, we have no evidence that this reduction would make no difference to the length of time the bird could remain on the wing. and this is a very important matter. an aspect of flight which has now to be considered is that of birds which fly in troops. some species always travel thus, others only on occasions. rooks and gulls afford instances of this, when, during windy weather, or for other reasons, they congregate and fly round and round in great circles, at a considerable height. small wading-birds, like ringed plovers and dunlin, commonly fly in "bunches." the last named furnish a singularly interesting sight when thus travelling; for their evolutions are so amazingly timed. as if at a given signal every bird in the troop will change its course at the same moment, and in the same direction, so that now one sees a flickering mesh-work of grey, and now a shimmering as of snow-flakes, as first the grey backs, and then the white breasts are turned towards one. but flights such as this are to be seen only during the autumn and winter months. for during the breeding season these little flocks are broken up and distributed far and wide. but there is yet another reason. they wear a totally different dress--the courtship or breeding plumage. herein the upper parts are of a rich chestnut hue, streaked with black, while the under parts are black. even more fascinating to watch are the autumn troops of starlings on the way to their roosting places. hundreds at a time, not to say thousands, take part in these flights. now they rush onward, in one great far-flung sheet, and now they close up into a great, almost ball-like, mass: and now they thin out till they look like a trail of smoke. but always they wheel and turn and rise and descend, not as separate bodies, but as one. how are such wonderful evolutions timed. the movements of an army on review-day are not more precise, or more perfectly carried out. during the whole flight not a sound, save the swishing of their wings can be heard. the marvel of it all is beyond the range of words, nor can one express the peculiar delight such a sight affords. why is it that ducks and geese commonly fly either in indian file, or in a roughly v-shaped formation, with the apex of the v forward? why do they not fly all abreast? one cannot say, but they never do. some mention must be made here of the surprising numbers in which geese, of some species, congregate. writing of the brent goose, in his "bird life of the borders," mr. abel chapman--and there are few men who can write with such authority on the subject--tells us:--"just at dark the whole host rise on the wing together, and make for the open sea. in the morning they have come in by companies and battalions, but at night they go out in one solid army; and a fine sight it is to witness their departure. the whole host, perhaps ten thousand strong, here massed in dense phalanxes, elsewhere in columns tailing off into long skeins, v's or rectilineal formations of every conceivable shape, (but always with a certain formation)--out they go, full one hundred yards high, while their loud clanging, defiance--"honk, honk,--torrock, torrock," and its running accompaniment of lower croaks and shrill bi-tones, resounds for miles around." [illustration: peregrine chasing duck.] chapter v. courtship flights "a pair of falcons wheeling on the wing, in clamourous agitation ..."--_wordsworth._ the wing-play of black-game and grouse--the "musical ride" of the snipe--the "roding" of the woodcock--the musical flights of redshank and curlew--the "tumbling" of the lapwing--the raven's somersaults--the courting flight of the wood pigeon--the mannikin's "castanets"--wings as lures--the strange pose of the sun-bittern--the "wooing" of the chaffinch and the grasshopper-warbler--darwin and wing-displays--the wonderful wings of the argus-pheasant. one of the most striking features of bird-life is surely its restless activity. this is always apparent, but it attains to a state of almost feverish excitement as the spring advances, and the parental instincts re-awaken. as they gather strength, so they manifest themselves, in outbursts of song--often of exquisite beauty--strange antics, or wonderful evolutions in mid-air. it is with these last that we are chiefly concerned here. as might be supposed, they present a wide variety in the matter of their form and duration. black-game furnish an example of a very simple form of courtship flight, but it is associated with curious antics on the ground. and these, it is to be noted, are only to be witnessed soon after sunrise. two blackcocks will approach one another and stand as if prepared to ward off a very vigorous onslaught; reminding one of two barn-door cockerels. with lowered head and neck they face one another, the beautiful lyrate tail spread fan-wise, and arched so that the curled, outer, feathers touch the ground, while the wings are trailed like those of the turkey-cock. then one will at last rush forward, and seizing his adversary by the scruff of the neck, will administer a sound beating with his wings. the victor celebrates his triumph by a loud, and most unmusical screech, which has been likened, by that accomplished observer and sportsman-artist, mr. j. g. millais, to the call of cats on the house-tops at mid-night. but presently a grey-hen makes her appearance. hostilities cease at once, on all sides; and intense excitement prevails amongst the whole assembly--for a large number of cocks will gather together at these sparring matches. her approach has been observed by a single bird, who, unintentionally, gives the signal by suddenly drawing himself up to a rigid position of attention, till he is sure she is really coming, then he throws himself into the air and flutters up a few feet, uttering at the same time, a peculiar hoarse note of exultation. immediately all the others follow suit; each seeming to strive to outdo his neighbour in a series of absurd pirouettings. here we have a "love-flight," of exceedingly brief duration, associated with terrestrial combats and frantic prancings. [illustration: _woodcock carrying young_] the grouse pursues a different method. he strives to incite his mate to amourous moods by chasing her about. but she is "coy," and will tolerate this for hours at a time, apparently intent on nothing more than seeking something interesting to eat, she seems to affect to be quite unaware of the presence of her importunate mate; though her behaviour is belied by the fact that she keeps up a continuous "cheeping" note, heard only at this time of the year. every now and then he will vary his tactics by leaping up into the air and taking an upward flight of from twenty to thirty feet, crowing vociferously. on alighting he will commence his addresses again. then, perhaps, she herself will take to flight, darting off and twisting like a snipe, evidently enjoying her tantalizing tactics. he follows in close pursuit, in the hope, doubtless, of satisfying his desires, when she shall come to rest. here is a "courtship" flight of longer duration, in which both sexes participate. the "musical ride" of the snipe is of a much more imposing character: and in this, again, both sexes take a part. during this performance, which affords some thrilling moments to the bird-lover, the bird ascends to a great height, and then plunges earthwards in a terrific "nose-dive" accompanied by a weird bleating noise, comparable to the bleat of a goat. for long years discussion waged furiously as to the source of this sound. some held that it was produced by the voice: others by the tremulous motion of the wing-feathers: others, again, contended that it was caused by the tail feathers. this was first mooted by the danish naturalist, meeves, and he produced some very striking and curious evidence to prove his view. he showed that the outermost tail-feathers had peculiarly thickened shafts, which were also bent in a very striking way. by removing these feathers, and sticking them into a cork, he was enabled, by twirling the cork rapidly round at the end of a string, to reproduce the "bleat" exactly. many years later dr. philip bahr revived this experiment, for the purpose of finally setting the matter at rest--for there were still many who remained unconverted to the meeves interpretation. dr. bahr left no room for further doubt. he showed, too, that during the production of this sound these tail-feathers were extended laterally, so as to separate them from the rest of the tail, and so give the air rushing past them during the earthward plunge, full play on these sound-producing structures. he too, applied the test first instituted by meeves, and so clinched his arguments. one may hear this strange music as early as february, and even, though rarely, as late as july. but it is essentially a breeding-season, or rather a "courtship" performance sound, though it may be evoked by a sitting bird suddenly surprised, when she will "bleat" as she leaves her eggs, possibly to distract the intruder on her vigil. the woodcock has a "love-flight" but of a quite different character, known by sportsmen as "roding." it takes the form of short flights up and down the "ride," or space selected for the nesting site. but while the female is sitting the male will still continue these flights, choosing the early morning and evenings. as he goes he utters strange cries, which have been compared, by some, to the words "more rain to-morrow" and by others to, "cro-ho, cro-ho," varied by a note sounding like, "whee-e-cap." these flights are varied by strange little displays upon the ground, when he will strut about before his mate with wings drooped and trailing on the ground, the tail spread, and the feathers of the head and neck standing on end. this gives him a very odd appearance, to human eyes, but it serves its purpose--which is to arouse his mate to amourous moods. redshank, curlew, and dunlin--cousins of the snipe and woodcock--are all accomplished performers in the art of wooing on the wing. the male redshank, uttering flute-like notes, mr. farren tells us, soars up to a moderate height, and remains, for a brief space, "hanging in the wind" with the tips of his curved wings rapidly vibrating. he then descends, pipit-like, earthwards, while the song, which has been uttered slowly, now quickens, reaching its climax as the bird, raising its wings above its back for an instant, finally alights on the ground. but he has yet other wiles, which are not used in mid-air. approaching his mate with his head erect and body drawn up to its full height, he raises his wings for an instant high above his head: then allowing them gradually to droop, he vibrates them, at the same time rapidly moving his legs like a soldier "marking time." the curlew seems to prefer the evening for his best efforts. rising from the ground with rapid wing-beats, he will "check" suddenly when near the summit of his ascent; so suddenly as almost to throw himself backwards. then, recovering, he will hang poised, kestrel-like, in mid-air, and pour forth a joyous thrilling, or jodelling, song. rising and falling, on quivering wings, or sweeping round in great circles, and hovering again, he will remain for some considerable time pouring forth this joyful ripple of song. the courtship flight of the lapwing is even, if possible, more interesting. rising from the ground with slow heavy flaps of his broad wings--which, it is to be noted, present a remarkable difference from those of the female, in that the primaries are much longer, so as to give this portion of the extended wing a conspicuously broader appearance--as though he had difficulty in getting under way, he speedily dissipates this impression by a sudden upward rush, an effortless turn, apparently; and then follows a downward swoop, or fall, with half-closed wings. to this swoop there succeeds a surprising change. in an instant the wing-beat is increased to an incredible speed, causing the body to turn a half, and sometimes even a complete somersault. but the next instant he is up and away over the ground with musical wing-beats, tilting and swaying from side to side with wonderful buoyancy. [illustration: lapwings.] throughout, this delightful performance is accompanied by a wild and joyous song, which seems to be attuned to the somewhat bleak surroundings. it thrills one even to remember it in later days: and it defies one to express it in human fashion. it has been as nearly rendered as any version i have ever seen--and i have seen many--by mr. brock. it is not a whistle, nor is it like any sound that can be faithfully rendered by the human voice, yet it seems to say "_whey-willuchooee-willuch-willuch-cooee_." it suffers a break, remarks mr. farren, commenting on this theme, during the flutter of the wings at the end of the fall, but is picked up at once with a triumphant "coo-whee, coo-ee," as the bird dashes off at the end of the somersault. the lapwing is very intolerant of any trespass on his breeding territory on the part of his neighbours. as soon as the intruder is sighted, the owner of the territory charges. and the two then mount up into the air, often to a great height, each striving to get above the other for a downward swoop. as the one "stoops" at the other, the lower bird dodges, and so rapidly are the wings moved that they are often brought smartly together over the back, producing a clapping noise. even the black, forbidding raven has his amorous moods. and at such times he will even outdo the more lively, though irascible lapwing in the art of aerial somersaults; if somersaults they can be called. for in the middle of an ordinary spell of flying he will suddenly fold up his wings and bring them close up to the body, at the same time turning completely round, as though he were turned on a spit; the body being held horizontal as the turn is made. for a moment or two there he is suspended, as it were, between earth and sky, with his back towards earth, and his breast towards the heavens. lest he should forget the manner of the trick, it would seem, he will practice it at times, during the stern work of chasing intruders from his territory; for he will brook no competitors on his ground. the woodpigeon, during the courtship season, makes frequent sallies into the air for the purpose, apparently, of giving vent to his exuberant feelings. during such flights he will dart up from the tree-tops and sail round, high above, in great circles, rising and falling as he goes, with out-spread wings, every now and then bringing them over his back with a resounding snap. during such displays the white bar across the wing is most conspicuous, serving at once to identify the performer. among our native birds, the only other species which habitually, and especially during the courting season, produce characteristic sounds during flight, by bringing the wings smartly together over the back, is the night-jar. but there are certain small passerine birds, known as mannikins, inhabiting the forests of south america, which have the shafts of the quill-feathers of the fore-arm enormously thickened. by means of these transformed and translated "castenets," at will, the bird can produce a sound which has been likened to the crack of a whip. so far this discourse has been concerned solely with "courtship" flights, or flights associated with peculiar sounds, dependent on rapid movements of the wing in mid-air for their production. and with the mention of these instances this chapter might, quite legitimately, be brought to an end. but it must not. and this, because there are a number of birds which put their wings, during courtship season, to very different purposes. spectacular flights and evolutions in mid-air do not appeal to them. they use their wings instead as lures, as a means of adding intensity to strange poses and pirouettings; whereby they desire to give expression to the amorous feelings which possess them, in the hope--if for the moment, we may accord to them human standards of intention--of arousing kindred emotions in their mates. darwin was the first to draw attention to these curious displays. which, on the evidence then available, seemed always to be made, and only to be made, by birds having wings conspicuously coloured. it seemed as though the possessors of such wings were conscious of their beauty, and so displayed them that nothing of their glory should be missed. the sun-bittern affords a case in point. this bird, a native of brazil, is soberly, but very beautifully coloured when at rest; its plumage presenting an indescribable mixture of black, grey, brown, bay, and white; blended in the form of spots, bars, and mottlings. but during times of sexual excitement it will spread out its wings in the form of a great fan, encircling the long, slender, neck. and in this position they present a very conspicuous appearance, taking the form of beautifully graded bands of black, white, and bright grey, forming patterns which vanish the moment the primaries fall into their place behind the quills of the fore-arm. but when thus spread the bird seems to find the greatest delight in displaying their chaste splendour before his mate. he seems to spread his wings just because he is conscious of their beauty when thus opened out. but we need not travel so far as brazil to find examples of displays of this kind. among the birds of our own islands we can find many close parallels. the chaffinch and the goldfinch, when seeking to arouse the sympathy of their mates make much play with their wings, not only in short "nuptial flights," designed, apparently, to display the conspicuous and brilliant colouring of the plumage as a whole, but when perched on some convenient spray. at such times the wing is more or less completely spread out, as if to reveal, to the fullest possible advantage, the bright bars and splashes of colour which this extension alone can bring into being. since these gaily coloured vestments seemed always to be associated with striking, stilted, attitudes, sometimes bordering on the grotesque, and always to be paraded in the presence of the female, darwin drew the inference that they were the outcome of female choice persistently exercised during long generations. that is to say he held that, far back in the history of the race, these performers were soberly clad, as their mates commonly are. then certain of the males of these now resplendent species began to develop patches of colour, small at first, but gradually increasing, generation by generation, in area and intensity. this progressive splendour, he believed, was due to the "selective" action of the females, which, from the very first, chose from among their suitors those who stood out among their fellows by reason of their brighter plumage. thus the duller coloured males died without offspring. on this assumption each succeeding generation would be, in some slight degree, brighter than the last, until the process of transformation ended in the glorified creatures we so admire to-day. it would be foreign to the purpose of this book to pursue this theme at length. let it suffice to say that while the "sexual selection" theory still holds good, it has, so to speak, changed its complexion. and this largely owing to the accumulation of new facts. for the most important of these we are indebted to the singularly exact and laborious observations analysed, clarified, and interpreted with remarkable insight and sagacity of mr. h. eliot howard, one of the keenest ornithologists of our time. he has set forth his case, and interpreted his facts with masterly skill, and there seems no escape from his conclusions. briefly, he has shown that birds of quite sober coloration like the warblers, which formed the basis of his investigations, engage in displays quite as remarkable, and of precisely the same character as in birds of gaily coloured plumage. from this it is clear that this wing-play is not prompted by a more or less conscious desire to display conspicuously coloured patches of colour, for of colour there is none save that of the general hue of varying shades of brown, as in the case of the grasshopper warbler, for example. nor is the display, apart from colour, to be regarded as a performance slowly perfected through long generations through the selection of females, coy and hard to please. we must regard these "nuptial flights" and wing-displays, as the outward and visible signs of a state of ecstatic amorousness on the part of the males which, by their persistence and frequent recurrence, at last arouse sympathetic response in the females. they play the part of an aphrodisiac. without them there would be no mating. in my "courtship of animals" those who will may pursue this subject further. [illustration: _herons_] before closing this chapter mention must be made of the most remarkable wing-display to be found among birds, and of the equally remarkable uses to which they are put. the possessor of these wonderful appendages, for they are wonderful, is the argus pheasant of the malay peninsula and borneo. though efficient for short flights in jungles, all that is ever required of them, they would be quite useless in open country where an extended journey had to be made, or escape attempted from some vigorous enemy. and this because the secondary wing-quills--the quills attached to the fore-arm--are of enormous length, making, as we have remarked, sustained flight impossible. they have, indeed, come dangerously near losing their normal functions altogether. and this because they have passed over into the category of specialised "secondary sexual characters." but for the fact that this bird lives in an environment where food is abundant all the year round, and can be obtained without any undue exertion, and that there are no serious enemies to be evaded, it would long since have become extinct. for this exuberant growth of quill-feathers must be borne all the year round, though they are not required to function in their later role, save during the period of courtship. their great length is not their only striking feature, or even their chief feature. this, indeed, is represented by their extraordinary coloration. for each feather bears along its outer web a series of "ocelli," so coloured as to look like a series of dull gold balls lying within a deep cup. outside the ocelli run numerous pale yellow longitudinal stripes on a nearly black background. the inner web is of a delicate greyish brown hue, shading into white and relieved by innumerable black spots, while the tips of the quills have white spots bordered with black. the primaries, too, are most exquisitely coloured, though in the matter of size they are not very exceptional. these, indeed, are the only true flight feathers. the full beauty and significance of the coloration of these feathers can only be appreciated during periods of display. then the two wings, in some indescribable manner, are opened out so as to form a huge circular screen, concealing the whole of the rest of the body. the effect produced from the human standpoint is one of great beauty, after the first burst of astonishment has spent itself. his mate is less easily moved. perchance "familiarity breeds contempt." at any rate it is only after persistent and frequent attempts to charm her to his will that success rewards him. those who have the good fortune to be able to make frequent visits to the zoological gardens in london may, with great good fortune, and at rare intervals, have an opportunity of witnessing such a display, and of studying in detail these wonderful wings. they are wonderful, not merely because of the manner of their display, or of their colouring, but also because in them we see ornament pushed to its furthest limit since, as wings, they have become well nigh useless, and therefore almost dangerous to the well-being of their possessors. [illustration: sunbittern displaying.] chapter vi. how to tell birds on the wing. "i can tell a hawk from a hernshaw."--_shakespeare._ the small perching-birds and the difficulty of distinguishing them--the wagtails--the finches--the buntings--the redstart-wheatear, stonechat--the thrushes--the warblers--the tit-mice--the nuthatch, and tree-creeper--the spotted-flycatcher--the red-backed shrike--swallows, martins, and swifts--the night-jar--owls--woodpeckers. the experienced ornithologist apart, there are hosts of people who are interested, at least, in our native birds: who would fain call them all by name; yet who can distinguish no more than a very few of our commonest species. they are constantly hoping to find some book which will give, in a word, the "hall-mark" of every bird they may meet in a day's march. but that book will never be written. for some species present no outstanding features by which they may be certainly identified, when no more than a momentary examination is possible, and this at a distance. and it is often extremely difficult to set down in words, exactly, what are the reasons for deciding that some rapidly retreating form belongs to this, or that, species. and then, too, there are difficulties due to seasonal changes of plumage--often striking--sex, and age; since immature birds often differ totally from the adults in appearance. the young robin and the starling afford instances in point. the adult starling, as everybody knows, is "black" with a yellow beak and reddish legs. but seen close at hand his feathers gleam with a wonderful metallic sheen reflecting changing hues of violet, green, and purple. the young bird, in the early summer, is of a pale brown colour. in the autumn the plumage is changed for a "black dress," like that of the adult, but heavily spotted with white. as the winter wears on the white spots become abraded, and disappear. the robin needs no description. but the young bird, in its first plumage, is commonly mistaken for the female, which, of course, is practically indistinguishable from the male. it is certainly unlike one's notion of a "cock-robin," being of a yellowish brown colour, with pale spots, a type of plumage characteristic of the young of the "thrush tribe." in some nearly related species, again, the males are strikingly different, the females barely distinguishable. but nevertheless, a very considerable number of our british birds can be more or less easily distinguished during flight--sometimes by the manner of that flight, sometimes by characteristic markings, sometimes by the notes they utter; and these are briefly summarised in this chapter. [illustration: 1. swallow. 2. house martin. 3. swift. 4. sand martin. 5. pied wagtail. 6. grey wagtail. 7. yellow wagtail. 8. chaffinch. 9. goldfinch. 10. linnet. 11. greenfinch. 12. bullfinch. ] when it is realized that no less than 475 species, and sub-species, of british birds are now recognized, it will be apparent that it would be impossible to do more than briefly epitomise the commoner species, and some of these, like the robin, and the wren, need no interpreter. the aim of this chapter is primarily to give, as far as possible, the salient features of our commoner native birds, as seen during flight. but some species merely "flit," from one place to another, and that so rapidly that no details of coloration can be distinguished. they can only be examined at favourable, and often fleeting moments, when at rest, and clear of foliage. only such as are frequently encountered are included here. to attempt more would be to lead to confusion. enough, it is hoped, will be said to help the beginner. experience will soon lead to an ever increasing proficiency--and with this will come an ever increasing conviction that the identification of birds, during flight, is an extremely difficult task. whoever essays it should, whenever possible, supplement his efforts by the aid of a pair of good field-glasses. these, indeed, are indispensable. the small perching birds are, perhaps, the most difficult to name at sight, and this because their flight presents so little to distinguish one species from another. all fly with rapid wing-beats, alternating with a period during which the wings are practically closed, causing the body to travel forward on a rapidly descending curve in the interval between the wing-beats. this gives rise to what is known as an "undulating" flight. but the large passerines, like the crows, differ conspicuously in their method of progress. with them the wing beats relatively slowly, so that its shape can be readily seen; and their course is direct--hence the familiar saying "straight as the crow flies." further, the inner webs of the outer primary quills are, what is called "emarginate," that is to say, the width of the web is suddenly reduced towards the tip of the feather, so that the outstretched wing has a conspicuously fringed appearance, as may be seen at a glance at the beautiful pen-and-ink sketches on another page. the eagles and falcons have similar emarginations. but to return for a moment to the smaller passerines. there are very few of our native species which could be distinguished in the field by their flight alone. for the most part one has to rely on this and clues afforded by characteristic markings: while a further aid is afforded by at least a slight knowledge of the haunts of birds. one would not expect to find a wheatear in a wood, or a wren in a reed-bed. the wagtails are among the easiest of the "undulating" fliers to distinguish, if only because of the great length of the tail. the pied-wagtail, with its black and white plumage--or black, grey, and white in the winter--can be identified at a glance. and so too, may the yellow, and the grey wagtails. the last named has the longest tail of all, and is further marked by his beautiful grey back and bright sulphur abdomen and under tail coverts. all have white feathers in the tail. the pipits and skylark, like the wagtails, have very long inner secondaries, but they can never be confused on this account. they can never be mistaken for wagtails, but on the other hand, the several species can be distinguished, when on the wing, only by long practice. the chaffinch, greenfinch, and goldfinch are with us all the year round, keeping each to his favourite haunts. most people know them well. but one meets even people living in the heart of the country, who cannot call them by name! the cock chaffinch can be distinguished at once by its white "shoulders," and white bars across the wing, apart from the bright hues of the body, so well shown in the adjoining plate. the hen has similar wing-marks, but lacks the bright colours of her lord. his cousin, the brambling--who comes to us in the winter--is just as easily identified by his orange-coloured shoulder patch--in place of white--and white rump, which is most conspicuous during flight. the greenfinch is marked, when in flight, by the yellow rump and bright yellow patches at the base of the tail feathers. who could mistake the goldfinch for any one else but himself? he looks like a butterfly as he flutters about on the tops of tall thistles. the crimson and black bands on his head, the glorious blaze of gold on his black wings, which are further marked with white spots, as also is his tail, make him the most gorgeous of our native finches. the bullfinch, again, is easy to distinguish; though from his habit of haunting thickets and dense hedgerows, he is seldom seen. in flight you may know him by his white rump, rosy breast, and black head. but his mate is more soberly clad: though her black head and white rump, will suffice to make sure of her when, by good fortune, she is encountered. one of the commonest of what we may call "road-side" birds, is the yellow-hammer; which can be recognized at once by the bright yellow colour of its head. as soon as it takes to flight the white feathers in the tail, and the chestnut rump will make assurance doubly sure. but in some parts of england one meets with another, and similar species--the cirl bunting. in this species, however, the male has a black throat and ear-coverts, and an olive-grey chest-band; while the female, lacking these distinctive marks, may be recognized by a brown, instead of a chestnut rump. when in the neighbourhood of swampy places and reed-beds, a look-out must be kept for the reed-bunting. a small bird with a black head and throat, and white collar, this is the male. the female will display a brown head, buff throat and eye-brow, and white outer tail feathers. in the winter time, near the sea, one may frequently come across the snow-bunting, which, on the wing, will at once attract attention by the large areas of white displayed in the wing and tail. [illustration: _chaffinch and young_] the redstart, one of our summer visitors, is a bird which can never be mistaken. a sight of the russet-red tail alone suffices. but the cock has the further glory of a mantle of grey, a black head and russet under parts. he is fond of country rich in old timber, or hill-sides, where stone walls attract him. his kinsman, the wheatear, returns to us in the early spring; to give an added charm to our bare hill-sides, and warrens, sea-cliffs, sand-dunes, and waste places. if you see a small bird flying low over the ground, with a white rump, and black wings, you may know that the wheatear is before you. that delightful, restless little bird, the stonechat, is a near relation of the wheatear. he too, is fond of waste places, and heaths; more especially such as will provide him with plenty of furze bushes, or ling, on the topmost twigs of which he loves to perch, flitting his tail and uttering his fussy little notes "hweet-chat, hweet-chat." on the wing you may tell him by his conspicuous white wing-patch, and the broad blaze of white on his neck, set off by a jet-black head. the female and young lack the bright chestnut on the breast. the stone-chat's cousin, the whinchat, may be found in similar situations, but he is of a more roving disposition, and may be found also in lowland pasture and water-meadows. more slender in form, he is further to be distinguished by the dark streaks down his back, white-eye stripe, and greater amount of white at the base of the tail. further, there is no white neck patch. most people know the common thrush and the blackbird when they see them, and many country-folk, indeed, recognize no more. yet there are five species in all, which may be called "common." they are to be distinguished, not so much by their flight, as by their general coloration. neither the common thrush, nor the blackbird need be described here: they cannot easily be confounded with any other bird. but for the moment it might be possible, it is true, to mistake the mistle thrush for the more common song-thrush. it is, however, an unmistakably larger bird, and when on the wing appears greyer, and if seen at close quarters, shows white tips to the outermost tail-feathers, and a white underwing. on the ground, of course, there can be no mistaking it, on account of its much more spotted breast; the spots, too, being much larger, and fan-shaped. during the autumn and winter there are two other thrushes which should be looked for. these are the fieldfare and the red-wing. the first-named, it is to be noted, will be found in small flocks, and if examined on the ground through field-glasses will be seen to have a slate-grey neck and rump, and chestnut-brown wings and tail; while the breast is streaked instead of spotted. in flight the underwing is white, as in the mistle-thrush, from which it can easily be distinguished by its smaller size, and the absence of white on its tail. the red-wing, like the fieldfare, is gregarious. this is an important point to bear in mind; since it might otherwise be confused, by the novice, with the song-thrush, the two being about the same size. but seen at rest, close quarters, there can be no mistake; the red-wing having a conspicuous cream-coloured eye-stripe, and chestnut-red flank-feathers. the underwing is similarly coloured. finally there is the ring-ousel, which, haunts the moorlands and rocky ravines. but it may be recognized at once by its conspicuous white gorget, contrasted with its otherwise black plumage. of the forty species of british warblers there is not one which the most expert of our ornithologists would venture to identify by the character of the flight alone. most of these species, of course, are rare and accidental visitors; many need an expert to distinguish them, since they represent but continental races of our own summer visitors. about ten species can be called common, or fairly common, in suitable localities, and the novice must not expect to recognize even these with anything like certainty. they have no characteristic flight, and they rarely do more than "flit" from one place to another. in the pages of this book, then, they can rightly have no place. but some may, perhaps, be glad of a few notes concerning one or two of the commoner species. the black-cap, for example, may be readily distinguished by its grey plumage contrasting with a black cap--reddish brown--in the female. it has also a peculiarly delightful song, which some prefer to that of the nightingale. this, the most celebrated of all our warblers--though for some inscrutable reason some ornithologists appear to regard it as a near ally of the redstarts and robin!--frequents woods with thick undergrowth and tangled hedgerows, and hence, is seldom seen, but may be recognised by the uniform russet-brown coloration of its upper parts, shading into pale chestnut on the tail, and the ash-grey of the under parts, shading into white on the throat and abdomen. the whitethroat may be recognized by the fine white ring round the eye, grey head, brown upper parts, and buffish pink breast, set off by the conspicuous white throat, from which the bird derives its name. it is perhaps the only british warbler which can really be distinguished during flight, and this only because the outermost pair of tail feathers are almost wholly white. it may be looked for in hedges and thickets, as well as on gorse-covered commons. its near relation, the lesser-whitethroat, differs in its smaller size, whiter under parts, and the absence of the rufous edges to the secondaries, which are one of the distinguishing features of the common whitethroat. the garden-warbler is much more frequently heard than seen, its song, a continuous, sweet, and mellow warble, rivalling that of the black-cap, though softer and less varied. haunting shrubberies and gardens, it is yet the mere ghost of a bird, its uniform brown [illustration: 1. sea gull. 2. hooded crow. 3. gannet. 4. golden eagle. 5. snipe. 6. redshank. 7. nightjar. 8. barn owl. 9. rook. 10. cuckoo. ] upper parts, and brownish-buff under-parts, coupled with its shy, retiring disposition make it exceedingly difficult to see. three other tantalizing little members of this numerous tribe are the chiff-chaff, willow-warbler, and wood-warbler. tantalizing because so frequently seen during the summer months, so much alike, and yet, somehow, different. the novice has no name for them; the expert can only tell them by a combination of characters, and their contrasts. he is guided rather by their notes and habits, than by their appearance, so closely do they resemble one another! the chiff-chaff, as its name suggests, is to be identified by its song--chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff, chiff, chiff-chaff-chiff--uttered from the top of a high tree. the singer is too small to be seen, so that he who would discover what manner of bird is the songster, must watch in the direction of the sound, till the singer elects to descend. the willow-warbler is a rather larger bird with a tinge of yellow in his plumage. also it is less restricted to woods and coppices, and has a sweet, indescribable warble. the wood-warbler is the largest of this trio--from the tip of his beak to the tip of his tail he may measure as much as five inches--and is also the most brightly coloured. above he is greenish, with an eye-brow of sulphur-yellow, and a sulphur-yellow breast and throat. since he is rarely to be found, save in woods of beech and oak, he will, on this account, the more easily be distinguished from his cousin, the chiff-chaff and the willow-warbler. this fact again, can be taken into account when the identity of one or other of these two is in question. the warblers are essentially birds of the country-side--they cannot abide the busy haunts of men, who seem unable to settle anywhere without setting up hideous tramways and ugly buildings. kindly nature is crowded out. the garden, hedgerow, and shady woods are the chosen haunts of the warblers, though some prefer the reed-grown stream, or the thickets round quiet pools. the reed and the sedge-warbler will be found here, but by no means easily so, for after the manner of their tribe they love seclusion. to find the reed-warbler you must go to reed-beds, or to osier-beds, and there watch for a little bird, chestnut-brown above, and white below. but for his constantly babbling chatter--"churra, churra, churra"--you would never, probably, find him. guided, however, by his song, you may succeed in finding him nimbly climbing up and down the reed stems. very like him is the rarer marsh-warbler: but, for your guidance, note that the marsh warbler has a really melodious song, and is even more likely to be found in swampy thickets of meadow-sweet than the reed-beds. the sedge-warbler, though showing a decided preference for streams fringed by osier-beds and thickets, is more of a wanderer than the other two, since tangled hedgerows, and thickets, at a distance from the water will often suffice him. you may know him by the fact that he is of a dark brown colour above, streaked with a paler shade of brown, while the under parts are white, tinged on the breast and flanks with creamy buff. ornithologists rarely concern themselves with anything but the superficial characters of birds. not even the structure of the feathers interests them, but only their coloration. hence it is that they have come, quite commonly, to regard the gold-crest, or "gold-crested wren," as it is sometimes called, as one of the tit-mouse group! there is not even the remotest justification for this view. it is an indubitable warbler. a glance at the coloured plate will render any description of its appearance unnecessary. from autumn to spring you may find it in most parts of england and scotland--save the extreme north--hunting in hedgerows and woods for food. during the breeding season it favours coniferous woods. along the south and east of england, one may also meet with a closely similar species--the fire-crest. but while in the gold-crest the crown is of a bright lemon-yellow, in the fire-crest it is of a bright red-orange hue, while the side of the head is marked by a white stripe bordered with black. the gold-crest is our smallest british bird. the ranks of our resident "gold-crests," in the autumn, are swollen by immigrants from northern europe, who seek shelter with us because unable to withstand the rigours of the more northern winter. in the matter of size the gold, and fire-crested wrens agree, measuring but a trifle more than three and a half inches from the tip of the beak to the tip of the tail! by the way, the shape of the beak should be carefully noted. it is that of a typical warbler. it may be urged that this description of the warblers might well have been omitted from these pages, since, in regard to "flight," nothing whatever can be said, save that they "fly." there would indeed, be some justification for such criticism, but it is to be remembered that this volume is written, not for the expert, but for the novice, who, because he needs a few concrete examples of the hopelessness of expecting to identify every bird he may encounter by its flight, and of the methods he must occasionally adopt, when seeking to name a bird which will not come out into the open. his course of training, and discovery, will be much shortened by the realization that birds by no means always reveal their presence by taking long flights. what is true of the warblers, in this regard, is true also of our numerous species of tit-mice. we do not distinguish between them in the field by their flight, but by their coloration. but since these are such confiding little birds, coming to our very windows during the winter months, for food, a few notes concerning them may be acceptable. the commonest of all is the little blue-tit, or "tom-tit," as it is so often called. its beautiful cobalt-blue crown, blue back, wings, and tail, white face, and yellow breast, are familiar to us all. its larger relative, the great tit-mouse--the largest british tit-mouse--bears a close general resemblance to the smaller species, but is readily distinguished, not only by its greater size, but by the broad band of black running down the abdomen. its flight, as of all the tit-mice, is weak, and as it were, uncertain, confined to short passages from tree to tree. the coal tit-mouse and the marsh tit-mouse are seldom recognized as distinct species, by the novice. they are very soberly coloured little birds, the coal-tit being of an olive-grey, tinged with olive-buff, while the sides of the body are buff: the head and throat are black, relieved by a broad patch of white on each side and down the nape of the neck. the marsh-tit is, to all intents and purposes, of the same coloration, but differs conspicuously in lacking the white patches. the tiny longtailed-titmouse cannot possibly be mistaken for any other bird. its delicate hues of pink and grey, and extremely long tail, make comparisons with any other species unnecessary. where, during the winter, small birds are tempted to come to a tray of nuts and seeds, placed outside the window, that charming little bird the nuthatch--a near relation of the tit-mice--will commonly be among the guests. it cannot be mistaken for any other british bird, its form and coloration being, alike, distinctive. its upper parts are of a delicate blue-grey, its under parts buff, passing into chestnut on the flanks. the throat is white, while there is a black line from the beak to the eye, and beyond, spreading as it goes. a relatively large beak, and strikingly short tail, are features as conspicuous as is the coloration. its flight is slow and undulating. another little bird which, during the winter, associates with the tit-mice, is the tree-creeper. it is never seen on the wing, save when it is flitting from one tree to another, and then its course is obliquely downwards--from the upper branches of one tree to the base of another. this it proceeds to ascend immediately on alighting, by jerky leaps. its coloration is soberness itself--mottled brown above and silvery white below. the tail, it is to be noted, is formed of stiff, pointed feathers, like those of the woodpecker, and, as in that bird, is used in climbing. there is scarcely a garden--save in such as are within the area of a big town--which, during the summer, is not haunted by a little grey and white bird, with a most characteristic flight--a sudden sally into the air to seize some insect, sometimes even white butterflies, and an instant return to the same perch. this is the spotted flycatcher. in wales, devonshire, cumberland, and westmorland, one may be fairly sure of meeting with the pied-flycatcher. he is, so to speak, a black and white edition of his relative, the spotted flycatcher--but the black areas in the female are represented by brown. there are, however, notable differences in the method of hunting, in the two species; for the pied-flycatcher rarely returns to the same perch after his upward flight into the air, and he often feeds on the ground. [illustration: _gold crested wrens_] in the straggling hedgerows of the wooded districts of south and central england, and in wales, one may often come across the red-backed shrike; a very handsome bird, with pointed wings, long tail, and low swooping flights. his red back will alone distinguish him. no other british bird wears such a mantle. and this is set off by a grey crown and nape, and black patches on the sides of the head. the topmost twig of a bush, or hedge, where he can sight his prey from afar, are his favourite perches. on the east coast of england, during the autumn, one may sometimes see the great-grey shrike, distinguished readily by his large size, fan-shaped tail, and grey coloration, relieved by black ear-coverts, black wings and tail, "blazed" with white, and white under-parts. his flight is undulating and irregular, while just before alighting he gives a peculiar upward sweep. strangely enough, not only country boys and girls, but their fathers and mothers, not only confuse swallows and martins with one another, but these with the swift! yet they are readily distinguishable. all, it is true, have long, pointed wings, and forked tails: but their coloration is very different. the swallow has the most deeply forked tail of them all, and his steel-blue back, red throat, and rufous buff-and-cream under parts are unmistakable identification marks. the martin may be distinguished at once by the conspicuous white rump patch, and pure white under-parts. these are the signs by which they may be recognized when on the wing--and they are more often seen thus than at rest. the sand-martin is a much smaller bird, has a less markedly forked tail, and is of a uniform pale brown above, and white below, but with a brown band across the chest. the swift is not even related to the swallow-tribe. on the wing--and very few people ever see him otherwise--he is very different. the wing-beat is extremely rapid and intermittent. while in its shape the wing differs in its extreme length and narrowness. the flight is extremely swift--hence the name of the bird. not its least impressive feature is its wonderful flexibility. who has not watched, with delight, a troop of these birds sweeping down the village street, now skimming the ground, now sweeping upward and away, round the church tower, accompanied by wild, exultant screams, as though they were bubbling over with vitality. when high up they look like so many animated bows and arrows--the arrows being, perhaps, somewhat short and thick. the swift, it is worth remembering, is a near kinsman of the humming-bird, which also has a long narrow wing. both alike agree in this peculiarity--an upper arm bone of excessive shortness, and a hand of excessive length. no other birds approach them in this. the only other bird which has wings quite so ribbon-like, when extended, is the albatross--one of our rarest british birds. but here the proportions of the wing are reversed, for the upper arm bone is of great length, while the hand is relatively short. there is something inexpressibly soothing about the twilight of a summer's evening. most birds are abed. the swift can be heard high up, the "woolly bats, with beady eyes" are silently flitting all round one, turning and twisting as no bird ever turns. but for the chorus of the swifts, like black furies, and heard only at intervals, and faintly, all is silence, relieved, perchance, by the drowsy hum of a blundering dor-beetle. then, suddenly, if one be near some gorse, or bracken covered common, the stillness is broken by a strange "churring," like a bubbling whistle, rising and falling in volume. this may be followed by a loud "clap". and yet the source of these strange notes cannot be located, nor can any living thing be seen to which they could be attributed. but keep careful watch. presently there may emerge from the gathering gloom a long-winged, long-tailed bird, travelling at speed, with a twisting flight, and deliberate wing-beats, alternating with long glide on motionless pinions. as it passes one may notice white spots on wings and tail. this is the night-jar: a bird of ill omen among the aged inhabitants of the country-side, for they will assure you that it is guilty of sucking the milk of cows and goats. hence, it is commonly known as the "goatsucker." poor bird, it is quite innocent of such misdeeds, for though it has an enormous mouth, armed on either side with long bristles, it feeds only on moths and beetles. if you are fortunate, your vigil in the gloaming may be rewarded by a sight of yet other night-birds. out of some hollow tree, or swooping round the barn, may come a ghostly form, borne on absolutely silent wings: but with a reeling, bouyant flight, which is unmistakable--this is the barn owl. if you are very fortunate, you may hear its blood-curdling screech. once heard you will never forget it! his cousin, the tawny owl, it is whose musical, if doleful "hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-o" has so commonly been misrepresented by poets--and others--as "to-whit-tu-woo." its flight is slower and its wings rounder than in the barn owl, and furthermore, it lacks the glistening satin-white under-parts of that bird. but its coloration and general appearance are well-shown in the coloured illustration. the other species of owls we may reckon as fairly common residents with us. they are the long and the short-eared owls. but they are very rarely to be seen on the wing in daylight. each has the habit, when excited, of bringing the wings together smartly over the back, so as to produce a sound likened by some to the word "bock." few birds have figured so largely in our literature, perhaps, as the cuckoo. though heard by all, he is seen by few: and this because so many people fail to recognize the charming wastrel when they see him. in general appearance he recalls the sparrow-hawk. i have known even game-keepers confuse the two. but the cuckoo is much paler on the back, and the bars of the breast are finer. on the wing he is much slower than the sparrow-hawk; his wings are shorter, and his tail is tipped with white. immature birds may be recognized by their clove-brown coloration, and a large white patch at the nape of the neck. one of the most brilliantly coloured of all our native birds is the kingfisher. small streams and quiet pools are its favourite haunts. a glance will suffice to identify it at close quarters, but even if one catches sight of its fleeting form at too great a distance to see its wonderful coloration, it can be distinguished by its extremely rapid and direct flight, and curiously shuttle-shaped form: an appearance due to the shortness of its tail, as may be seen by a reference to the excellent coloured plate. the identification of birds in flight will be rendered easier for the novice if he makes a practice of "expecting" to find particular birds in particular places. that is to say, the haunts of birds are governed by their stomachs--they must not stray far from the source of their food. in a wood, then, you may "expect" to find woodpeckers--though you will often be disappointed, for they are by no means always to be seen. but the task of identification will be easier if one has a mental picture ready of the birds appropriate to the place. the green woodpecker, our largest native species, often betrays itself by its remarkable cry, reminiscent of a laugh--"ha, ha, ha," and "pleu, pleu, pleu." keep quite still, and presently, as likely as not, it will suddenly make its appearance with a rapid, undulating flight. as it alights on some neighbouring tree-trunk, its identity will be finally established by its green back and wings, yellow rump, and crimson crown. it ascends the tree by jerky leaps. where ant-hills abound it may often be seen on the ground, moving about with awkward hops, exploring the hills for ants. the greater and lesser spotted woodpecker may also sometimes be seen here, especially if there is much old timber about. in spring its presence is often made known by a peculiar drumming sound--never forgotten when once heard--made by excessively rapid blows with its beak on the trunk, or branch of a tree. on the wing it may be recognized by its "dipping" flight, and strikingly piebald appearance. at close quarters the strongly contrasted black and white plumage is relieved by crimson undertail-coverts, and a crimson crown. the lesser-spotted woodpecker is a much smaller bird--about the size of a sparrow, or chaffinch--and is barred with black and white; there is a patch of crimson on the head of the male. it has a habit of keeping more to the upper branches of the tree than the other species: but, like its greater cousin, it "drums" on the tree during the spring, but less loudly. its spring cry, "pee-pee-pee," is like that of the wryneck. this is a near relation of the woodpeckers, but very different in coloration, being beautifully mottled and vermiculated with grey and brown. but for its spring cry, just alluded to, it would escape notice altogether, so closely does it match the bough it is perched upon. unlike the woodpeckers its tail-feathers are not developed to form stiff, pointed spines. this is accounted for by the fact that, though it ascends tree-trunks readily, it does not hammer at the bark with its beak, and so does not need stiff tail-feathers to afford leverage. its flight is slow and hesitating. it is commonest, it may be remarked, on the south-east of england. [illustration: _great spotted woodpeckers_] [illustration: drumming snipe.] chapter vii. how to tell birds on the wing (_continued_). "the seamew's lonely laughter flits down the flowing wave; the green scarts follow after the surge where cross-tides rave."--_fiona macleod._ falcons--golden eagle--harriers and sparrow-hawk--the heron--the cormorant, shag, and gannet--the petrels--guillemots, razor-bills, and puffins--the ducks--the great crested grebe and dabchick--the pigeons--the "plover tribe"--the gulls and terns--the game birds. our native birds of prey, the owls and hawks, have been so harassed by game-keepers that many species are now exterminated, while others are but rarely seen. some, however, in favoured localities still remain to us. at one time the owls and hawks were believed to be nearly related: they were distinguished as the "nocturnal" and "diurnal" birds of prey. we now know that they are not in the remotest degree related. the owls, indeed, are closely related to the nightjars. they have been already discussed here. the hawk tribe must now have their turn. the one most commonly seen to-day is the kestrel, which is really a falcon, not a "hawk." no bird is so easily identified on the wing. and this because of its habit of hovering in mid-air as though suspended from the sky by some invisible thread, while it searches the earth far below for stray mice. the kestrel's lordly relative, the peregrine-falcon, is now-a-days only to be seen in a few favoured spots, out in the wilds--on beetling cliffs washed by the restless sea, or inland precipices. those who have the good fortune to see it at rest may know it by its large size, strongly barred under-parts, dark blue-grey back and wings, and dark moustachial stripe. on the wing it is a joy to watch, for its flight impresses one as something irresistible: something from which there can be no escape, so swift is it, and so terrible in its directness and strength. a few rapid beats of its long pointed wings, then a long glide on motionless pinions, and it is swallowed up in the distance. on the moors of scotland it is regarded with cordial dislike, because of the terror it spreads among the grouse. hence, unhappily, every man's hand is against it. the little hobby is another of our falcons which is remorselessly shot down by the game-keepers, who, all too commonly, lack both knowledge and discretion. in appearance it closely resembles the peregrine, and its flight is similar. it feeds chiefly on small birds, dragon-flies, and beetles. you may hope to find it--generally in vain--in well-wooded districts, from april to september, in the southern counties of england. in the north of england and scotland, if fortune favours, you may find the merlin; our smallest british falcon; the male scarcely exceeds a blackbird in size. moors and the heath-covered brows of sea-cliffs are perhaps its favourite haunts. its flight is swift, buoyant, and low. unlike the hobby, gliding movements are not conspicuous. the male is of a slate-blue, and has a broad black band across the tail. the female is larger than her mate, dark brown on the back and wings, and white, streaked with brown, below. it feeds almost entirely on small birds, but varies this diet with beetles and dragon-flies. wherever there are deer-forests in scotland, even to-day,--but nowhere else in great britain--may you count on seeing the golden-eagle. and it is a sight to gladden the eyes. its great size, broad wings, and wide-spread, upturned, primaries, are unmistakable, when seen on the wing--and it is rarely that you will see it else. those who cannot contrive to visit the haunts of the golden-eagle may find ample compensation in watching the flight of the common buzzard in wales, the devonian peninsula, and the lake district. though time was when it might be seen all over england, wherever woods abounded. its flight, when hunting, strikes one as somewhat slow and heavy. in fine weather, however, as if for the mere delight of the exercise, it will mount heaven-wards in great sweeping spirals, holding its broad wings almost horizontally, and spread so that the primaries stand widely apart for half their length, and in this joyous movement they will remain aloft for hours on end. but for the untiring efforts of the royal society for the protection of birds, none of our larger birds of prey--save, perhaps, the golden eagle, which is carefully cherished in the deer-forests--would now be left to us. the case of our harriers seemed hopeless. but, thanks to a zealous protection, a remnant remains. the harriers are in many ways extremely interesting birds. in appearance, when closely examined, they present one remarkable feature. and this is found in the curious arrangement of the feathers of the face which radiate from the eye as a centre, as in the owls, to form a "facial disc." they are all large birds, of slender build, and have a habit of flying close to the ground with their long, slender legs dangling, crossing and re-crossing the same area till they are sure they have examined it thoroughly. frogs, eggs, small birds, and voles form their principal food. every now and again they will rise and circle round at a considerable height, seeking a new feeding ground. the marsh-harrier is our largest harrier, and has rounded wings, and slower wing-beats than the others, from which it is further readily distinguished by its chocolate brown coloration, cream-coloured head, and grey tail and secondaries, which contrast strongly with the black primaries. the hen-harrier breeds only in the orkneys and the outer hebrides. it is distinguished by its grey coloration and pure white rump-patch. montagu's harrier is a somewhat smaller bird, and has black bars on the secondaries. in flight it is more graceful and buoyant than its relatives, and this is accomplished by three or four wing-beats, alternating with a long glide on half-raised pinions. it, again, nests annually in east anglia, thanks to protection. there remains but one other bird of prey to mention here, and this is the sparrow-hawk. it may be easily recognized during flight by its short, rounded wings and long tail. the female, which is much larger than her mate, has the under parts distinctly barred. the breast of the male is similarly marked, but the bars, being of a pale rufous, or rust-colour, and much narrower, are less conspicuous. it has a very rapid and gliding flight, just above the ground, or along hedgerows, which it scours in its search for small birds. there may be many who will fare forth to find the harrier on the wing. if they succeed they will indeed be fortunate. but there is one bird that most certainly will be seen in the "harrier-country," and that is the heron. there can be no mistaking him. he may be found, a large, grey bird, standing contemplative, knee-deep by the river's margin, or in some ditch, awaiting the moment to strike at some unwary fish, frog, or water-vole. the moment he discovers that he is being watched he will be on the move. he rises heavily, almost awkwardly, with flapping wings and outstretched neck: his legs dangling down. but no sooner is he well on the way than he hauls in his neck till the head is drawn close to the body, and straightens out his legs till they extend behind him like a pair of streamers. henceforth his flight is easy and graceful enough. this is the bird which was so much prized in the old days of "hawking." the invention of the gun ended this most fascinating form of sport. let us turn now, for a little while, from moor and wood and fen, to the sea-shore, and, for choice, to a rock-bound coast with towering cliffs. here you will find a number of species which will never be found inland. they love the sea, whether it be shimmering in the sun of a blazing june day, smooth as a millpond, or in a fury of thundering billows, lashed by a roaring gale in bleak december. the bottle-green shag is one of these. you cannot mistake him. perched on a rock he sits upright, and, in the spring, wears a crest upon his head. on the water he floats with the body well down, and every few moments disappears with a spring into the depths, for his never-ending meal of fish and crabs. his flight, just above the water, is strong and rapid. his cousin, the cormorant, is a conspicuously larger bird, with a bronze-coloured plumage. in the breeding season his head has a hoary appearance, due to the presence of numerous filamentous feathers, known as "filoplumes"; while the throat is white, and there is a large white patch on the thigh. he has a habit, after a full meal, of sitting on some convenient perch with wings spread wide open and open-mouthed, apparently as an aid to digestion. but he is by no means so wedded to the sea as the shag. rivers and inland waters will serve him as well as the sea. [illustration: 1. partridge. 2. gannet. 3. whitethroat. 4. red-backed shrike. 5. magpie. 6. goldfinch. 7. great crested grebe. 8. buzzard. 9. puffin. 10. grey wagtail. ] the gannet, though very nearly related to the cormorant, is a bird of very different habits and appearance. when adult it is snow white in plumage, with blue beak and feet, and can be mistaken for no other bird. its peculiar mode of fishing was described in chapter ii. finally, there are two most interesting features of these birds which are worth remembering. to wit, the toes are all enclosed within one web, and they have no nostrils, and but the merest apology for a tongue. and now we come to the petrels. these are for the most part nocturnal birds, spending the day in burrows. they would, therefore, find no place in these pages but for the fact that one may occasionally be seen at sea when one is fishing off the shore in a boat. the commonest is that known as the manx shearwater. rather larger than a pigeon, it may be distinguished by its flight, which is rapid; the wings presenting periods of rapid quivering, alternating with long sailing with fixed, widely spread, narrow pinions. at one moment one sees only the deep black of the back, the next the pure white of the under parts as the birds turn now this way, now that, holding the outstretched wings at right angles to the surface during the turn, so that one wing barely misses the waves, while the other points skywards. sometimes too, one may see the little "mother carey's chicken." a tiny sprite sooty-black in colour, and with a white rump patch, it often flies so close to the water that it is able to patter along the surface with its feet, as it flies. the fulmar petrel is indeed a child of the sea, for, except in the breeding season, it never comes to land. but at sea you may have the good fortune to see it off the east coast of great britain, and the north and west of ireland--and in winter off the south and west coasts of england. though in coloration resembling a common gull, it may always be distinguished, when on the wing, by its narrow wings, curved like a bow--not sharply angled as those of a gull, and the primaries are not black-tipped. its flight is strong and powerful: slow wing-beats alternating with long glides. on far st. kilda, in the breeding season, you may find them in great hosts. for some unexplained reason they are increasing in numbers, and may now also be found breeding in the shetlands, hebrides, and orkneys. some who read these pages may, perchance, be stimulated by a desire to enlarge their acquaintance with our sea-birds by spending a day at sea in a small row-boat. for choice, one of the larger breeding-stations should be visited. horn head, donegal; st. kilda, the scilly islands, the bempton cliffs, yorkshire; the farne islands, fowlsheugh, stonehaven; the orkneys, the shetlands, or the hebrides, are all renowned resorts. here are thrilling sights indeed. guillemots, razor-bills, and puffins are congregated in swarms, which must be seen to be believed. few birds are more easy to tell at sight as they scuttle past one on the way down to the water from the cliffs, or returning laden with food for their young. the puffin is easily the most conspicuous, since he flies with his little yellow legs stuck out on each side of his apology for a tail. and for a further token there is his great red and yellow beak. the guillemot has a sooty brown head and neck--in his breeding dress--slate-grey back and white under parts, and a pointed beak; while the razor-bill, similarly coloured, is to be distinguished by the narrow white lines down his highly compressed beak. by good fortune, the white-winged black guillemot may be found among the host. his white wings contrasting with the black plumage of the rest of the body, and his red legs, suffice to identify him. on the farne islands, as well as on the orkneys and shetlands, you may be sure of finding the eider-duck, one of the most singular, and most beautiful members of the duck family. it is singular because of its coloration; the under parts of the body being of a velvet black, while the upper parts are white, thus exactly reversing the normal distribution of these "colours." the rosy hue which suffuses the fore-part of the breast, and the bright green patch on the cheek, make up an unforgettable scheme of coloration. the female is very soberly clad, being of a dark brown, barred with black. a further, and valuable, identification mark is furnished by her beak, which, like that of her lord, seems unusually long, owing to the sloping forehead. the flight is slow and close down to the water. the sheld-duck is another strikingly coloured species that is commonly seen on sandy shores and estuaries. there can be no mistaking it. on the wing it has a conspicuously pied appearance, while the flight seems slow and rather laboured. seen at rest, and fairly near, a broad chestnut band across the breast, and a black band down its middle will be noticed, while the black head and neck are admirably contrasted with a coral red beak. the legs are pale pink. in winter, on parts of the east coast, they sometimes form flocks of several hundreds. the heavy-bodied, black ducks, one often sees scurrying along, close to the water, sometimes in immense flocks, are common scoters. the male is entirely black, with an apricot yellow beak-patch, the female is a dark brown, with grey cheeks. [illustration: 1. peregrine falcon. 2. kestrel. 3. merlin. 4. golden eagle. 5. montagu's harrier. 6. goshawk. 7. osprey. 8. sparrow hawk. ] though the duck-tribe is represented by a considerable number of species, the number likely to be seen by the casual wanderer is very few; for these birds mostly keep well under cover during the day. in addition to the three species just described there are at least two others which are not infrequently seen, out in the open, during the day. one of these is the goosander, which, on the lochs and rivers of scotland, is common; and it is also frequently encountered in similar situations in the northern counties of england. you may know him by his bottle-green head, which bears a crest, black back, and white wings. his breast is suffused with a wonderful pale salmon colour--which fades away within a few hours of death, leaving the breast white. the beak is long, pointed, and coral red. moreover, its edges are armed with horny teeth. for he is a fish-eater, capturing his prey by diving. on the wing he is very fast, but he rises from the water but slowly. his mate has a reddish-brown head and neck, and a grey back. the second species referred to is the mallard, though it is only very occasionally, and by accident, met with during the day. its appearance has been so well represented in the coloured plate that there is no need for description. when on the margins of lakes, large ponds, or slow-moving streams, keep a look-out for two very remarkable divers--the great-crested grebe and the dabchick. both float low in the water, and may be identified at once from the fact that they have no tail. the great-crested grebe has a conspicuous dark chestnut-red frill round his neck, which can be set out like an elizabethan ruff, at will, though this is rarely done save in the courting season. the dabchick is a small bird--rather smaller than a pigeon--and has no erectile ornaments. the "grebe-flight" is shown in the coloured drawings, and it has further been already described. they will vanish beneath the water with startling suddenness, and remain below for a surprising length of time; emerging at last far from the spot at which the dive was taken. one of the commonest birds of the country-side is the ring-dove, or woodpigeon. he is the largest of our pigeons, and may further be distinguished by the white half-ring round his neck. his flight scarcely needs to be described, for it differs in no essentials from the pigeons of our dove-cotes. his courtship flight has already been described here. the stock-dove is not quite so conspicuous, but may be readily distinguished from the fact that the neck has no white patch, while the out-spread wings are marked by an imperfect bar of black. it is a bird, by the way, which shows a strange diversity of taste in the selection of the site for its nursery--a rabbit-burrow, a hole in a tree, an old squirrels drey, or the cross-beams in an old church tower! the rock-dove haunts deep caverns worn out of the cliffs, both inland and on the coast. but one can never be certain that one is watching _really_ wild birds. certain it is that most of the "rock-doves" one sees are domesticated birds run wild. this is the ancestor of our dove-cote birds, from some of which, those with a white rump and two black wing-bars, they cannot be distinguished. it is on account of this ancestry that our domesticated pigeons never alight in trees. they are inherently cliff dwellers. the turtle dove is a summer visitor to the british islands. the cinnamon brown of its back, bluish ash-grey head, wing-coverts and rump, the patch of black on its neck, and the fan-shaped tail, tipped with white, readily distinguish it from the other three species just described. where the summer holidays are spent by the sea--in places where there are no bands, piers, "promenades," and other abominations of "civilization"--one may spend delicious hours watching some of our "wading-birds." on such parts of the coast as have a rocky shore one may be sure of finding the handsome oystercatcher, a black-and-white bird, with a long red beak, and flesh-coloured legs. his loud, shrill "_wheep-wheep_" seems to harmonize perfectly with his wild surroundings. his striking coloration, shrill note, and swift powerful flight, make confusion with any other bird impossible. one is also sure to find the ringed-plover. a little bird with a pale brown back, a white forehead with a bar of black above it, black face, and a black band at the base of the white neck. the beak is short, and the legs yellow. the wings, in flight, are long and pointed, and marked with a white bar. the outer tail-feathers, spread during flight, are also white. it runs rapidly about, swiftly picking up sand-hoppers and other small creatures, and always travels in small flocks. commonly associated with the ringed-plover one finds the dunlin, grey above, white below, and with a long, black beak. the peculiarities of its flight, and its strikingly different summer dress have already been described here. sometimes you will meet with the common sandpiper; a small bird, about the size of a thrush, who runs on rather long legs, and constantly flicks his tail up and down. his coloration is of a bronzy-brown, above, more or less conspicuously marked with darker bars, and white below. in flight he shows long, pointed wings, and a tail broadly tipped with white and barred with black. more often you will find him on the banks of streams. his cousin, the redshank, a much larger bird, has already been described here in regard to his spring love-making. later in the year he may be distinguished, when on the wing, by the large white rump-patch, white secondaries, white tail, barred with black, long pointed wings, and long, red legs. the wary curlew, already referred to, is really a moorland bird, but spends the autumn and winter by the shore, or on the mud-flats of estuaries. his peculiar cry, a shrill "_cour-lie_," readily distinguishes him. added to this is his large size, brown coloration, and long, curved beak. on the wing, the rump and upper tail-coverts are conspicuously white. the "waders," sometimes collectively referred to as the "plover-tribe," are represented in the british islands by a very long list of species, of which only the commonest are mentioned here. many, however, are mere casual visitors. near allies of this "tribe" are the gulls and terns. the peculiarly graceful, elastic flight of these birds surely needs no description. even town-dwellers know them well. for during the winter months they follow the rivers far inland. even in grimy london they may be seen in hundreds during the winter months. the black-headed gull is by far the commonest of these winter visitors. but at the same time, to the uninitiated, the name "black-headed" must seem singularly inappropriate; for its head is emphatically _white_. at no time, indeed, is it ever _black_. but keep careful watch of the hosts which throng the river from january, onward, till they depart for their breeding quarters, and you will see them gradually developing a dark patch on each side of the head. and this slowly spreads till the whole head is of a dark sooty brown. immature birds may be picked out by the presence of brown feathers in the wings, and a black bar across the tip of the tail. here and there among them, one may see much larger birds of a brownish grey colour, and with black beaks and pale coloured legs, in place of the cherry-red of the beak and legs of the "black-headed" species. these are the immature stages of the greater, and lesser black-backed gulls; or of the herring gull. when fully adult the two first-named have the back and wings of a dark slate colour, the rest of the plumage dazzling white. the beak is pale yellow, with a red spot on the angle of the lower jaw. during flight the wings are also black, but the primaries have white tips. the herring gull has a pale pearl-grey back. with a strange perversity the black-headed gull is commonly called, by the novice, the "kittiwake." this is a totally different bird, rather like a herring-gull in miniature, but with a green beak and short, black legs. moreover, it is rarely seen inland. it breeds in vast colonies on the ledges of precipitous cliffs along the scottish coast and the west of ireland. there are colonies, too, on lundy, the scilly isles, and the farnes. one other gull must be mentioned here, though it is not common, save in the northern parts of scotland. but it is a regular winter migrant down the east coast of england during the winter. this is richardson's skua. you may tell it at once by its dark brown coloration, and long, pointed tail. it gets its living mostly by robbing other gulls, chasing them till they disgorge their latest meal, which is seized in mid-air as it falls sea-ward! finally, a word or two about the "game-birds." these are all birds easily distinguished by reason of their short, rounded, deeply convex wings, which, driven with incredible speed, produce a "whirring" sound--very pleasant to the ears of the sportsman. the flight is never continued very far. the english partridge may be distinguished by the horse-shoe mark on the breast: the french partridge by the beautiful pearl-grey colour of the flanks, relieved by short bars of black, and chestnut-red, and red legs and beak. it is also known, indeed, as the "red-legged" partridge. the pheasant is a far larger bird, with a long, pointed tail. the grouse is confined to moors. his heavy build and red coloration distinguish him at once. the black-cock is a still larger bird; the male with a wonderful metallic, steel-blue plumage, and lyrate tail. his mate--the "grey-hen"--is chestnut brown, barred with black. the capercailzie is the largest of all, almost rivalling a turkey. his size alone suffices to distinguish him. moreover, only a very few can enjoy the pleasure of gazing at him, for he confines himself to the coniferous woods of scotland. [illustration: buzzard soaring.] chapter viii. the wings of nestling birds. "the blue eggs in the robin's nest will soon have wings, and beak, and breast, and flutter and fly away."--_longfellow._ the wing of the unhatched bird--of the coots and water-hen--the hoatzin's wings--the wing of archæopteryx--moulting--the nestling game-birds and ducks--teaching the young to fly. at first sight it may seem a little strange to introduce nestlings into a book devoted to birds in flight. but there are aspects of the wing of nestling birds which must, indeed, be borne in mind when considering the wing of the adult. it was pointed out, in chapter i, that the wing of the adult had but three fingers and two wrist-bones. this condition represents the last stage in the evolution of the avian wing. the wing of the nestling gives a clue to an earlier stage in its history. but we can get even further back than this. for if we examine the wing of an unhatched bird, we shall be able to get still nearer to the birth, and growth of the wing out of a reptilian fore-limb. here as many as six wrist-bones may be found. and the "palm-bones," which in the adult are welded together, are here quite separate. this stage, then, carries us back towards the ancestral, reptilian, fore-limb used for walking, or perhaps for climbing. and there is another sign of this earlier, reptilian, period to be found in such a wing. at the tip of the thumb and first-finger, in unhatched ducks, game-birds, and water-hens, for example, you will find a small claw. by hatching-time the claw of the first finger will have disappeared, but it is still retained in the case of the duck and the water-hen. in the adults of all three you will rarely find more than the claw of the thumb: and this now serves no useful purpose whatever. indeed, there seem to be only two tribes which have any use for wing-claws during nestling life. one of these is represented by the gallinules, that is to say, the coots, and water-hens, and their kind. you may test this whenever you have the good fortune to capture a young water-hen. place him outside the nest, and especially if it happens to be a little raised, you will see him make his way back, using feet, wing-claws, and beak. his wings, it will be noticed, at this stage are used as fore-legs. the other tribe is represented by that strange bird the hoatzin of the amazon. here the two claws are really large, and they play a quite important part in his early life. for the young hoatzin is hatched in a nursery--a crude nest of sticks--placed on the boughs of a tree overhanging the water. as soon as hatched he begins to climb about the branches. should he fall, by some mischance, into the water, he promptly swims to the bank; and by the aid of his long first finger, and wing-claws, and his huge feet, soon climbs back. but the most wonderful part of his story is yet to come. [illustration: _grouse_] so long as these youngsters can only scramble about they are in constant jeopardy. a wing-surface at least big enough to break the force of a fall is an urgent necessity. and so the growth of the quill-feathers is, so to speak, pushed forward with all possible speed. but if all the feathers grew at the same rate, there would speedily come a time when the outermost feathers would make the claw at the end of the finger useless, while the wing-surface, as a whole, would be insufficient. to obviate this difficulty, the development of the outermost feathers is held in abeyance till the inner feathers of the hand, and the outermost of the fore-arm, have grown big enough to suffice to break the force of the fall. as soon as this stage is arrived at, the outermost quills, whose growth has been held in abeyance, rapidly develop; the finger decreases in length, and its claw disappears, while that of the thumb soon follows suit. and thus it comes about that the hand, in the nestling, is relatively much longer than in the adult. but in its mid-period it may be taken to represent the adult stage of the wing of the ancient archæopteryx. this bird could have been but a poor flier, and probably during the time it was moulting its quills it was absolutely flightless, so that it needed a permanent finger-tip, and claw, beyond the margin of its wing-surface. this matter of "moulting," by the way, needs, at least, passing comment. all birds renew their plumage at least once: the body plumage often twice in the year. the old feathers fall out, and their places are taken by new ones. but their growth is slow. in geese and ducks, and some other birds, the wing-quills are moulted all at once, so that flight, for a week or two, is impossible. but they can escape from their enemies while thus at a disadvantage, by taking to the water. in all other birds the quills are moulted, and renewed, in pairs: so that at no time are they left flightless. but this by the way. let us revert, for a moment, to the hoatzin's wing. the appearance of the outermost quills of the hand, it will be remembered, is delayed till the inner feathers have grown long enough to "flutter," at least, for a short distance, then the growth of the complete series proceeds apace. this has been called an "adaptation" to enable these youngsters, active from the moment they leave the egg, to move about in comparative safety. but it is more than this. it is a survival of an ancient order of things which takes us back to the first known birds. this is certainly a very remarkable feature, but it gains an added interest from the fact that it has a parallel in the history of the development of the wing in the game-birds. if you look carefully at the downy chicks of the pheasant, or even at barn-door fowls, you will remark that the wing-quills develop with surprising rapidity: so that they have feathered wings while the rest of the body is still down-covered. this enables them the more easily to escape prowling foxes and other enemies. in young ducks exactly the opposite condition obtains, the body is fully feathered long before the feathers of the wings appear. and this because they do not need to fly when danger threatens, but take to the water instead. but to return to the chicks of the pheasant. the wing of the chick develops at a very rapid rate. within a few hours after hatching, the first traces of the coming flight feathers can be seen, and presently a large wing is covering each side of the tiny body. at this stage many often die. the wings, which can then be examined at leisure, reveal an extremely interesting condition. for they repeat the features which obtain in the wing of the nestling hoatzin: inasmuch as the outermost quills are also, as yet, non-existent; and there is a free finger-tip. but it is not nearly so long as in the hoatzin, and there is no terminal claw. surely, from this, we may infer that the delayed development of the outer quills is a survival of a time when the ancestors of the pheasant were arboreal, and hatched their young in trees. otherwise all the wing-quills should develop at the same time, and at the same rate. here, then, is another instance of what can be learned of the past history of a bird by a careful scrutiny of the nestling. sometimes we shall find our evidence in the wing, sometimes in some other organ. the sequence of plumage affords abundant evidence of this. but that is another story. so much for the "intensive" study of the wing. a brief reference must now be made to the constantly repeated statement that nestling birds are "taught" to fly by their parents. there is no evidence whatever to support this belief: and much that goes to show its improbability. failing more suitable sites, sand-martins will often elect to build their nests in the crevices of the masonry of bridges. from the mouth of this substitute for a burrow is often a sheer drop of many feet to the stream below. when the nestlings, fully fledged, leave their nursery for the first time they must either "fly" from the moment they take the first plunge from the masonry, or die. failing to make the appropriate movements of the wings nothing can save them from a watery grave. there can be no "teaching" to fly. indeed, death no less certainly awaits every house-martin when it plunges into space from the edge of the nest. the appropriate wing-movements, necessary to produce flight, in short, are "instinctive." those with defective instincts are forthwith killed by falling to the ground. they leave no offspring to inherit their defects. perhaps the most convincing evidence of all as to the "instinctive" nature of flight, in nestling birds, is furnished by the mound-birds, of the malay region and eastern australia. these extraordinary birds lay their eggs in heaps of decaying vegetable-matter, or in the soil near hot springs; and there leave them to their fate. they lay very large eggs, it is to be noticed, so large that the growing chick finds nourishment enough within the egg to enable it to pass the ordinary nestling stage while still within the shell. by the time it emerges it has both grown and shed its first coat of nestling-down, and has developed long wing-quills. having burst its prison walls it wriggles its way up through the loose earth, to the light of day, ready to fight its way in the world unaided. here, then, there can be no question of "teaching" the young to fly. but some birds, at least, do, indeed, receive instruction when on the wing. and in such cases, it will be noticed, their food can only be captured by dexterous movements in full flight. for a day or two, for example, young swallows simply practice flight, to exercise and strengthen their wings. they are fed by their parents when at rest. the next step comes when they are fed on the wing, taking their food as they hover on trembling pinions from their parent's beak. in a little while the food is dropped as the parent passes, and the youngsters are made to catch it as it falls. from thence, onwards, they have to do their own hunting. the clumsy ones must die. eagles and hawks, in like manner, teach their young to capture swiftly moving prey by dropping food to them in mid-air. if one fails to catch it the parent swoops down and seizes the hard-won meal before it reaches the ground; then mounting aloft with it, drops it once more, till, at last the required dexterity is gained. [illustration: gulls.] chapter ix. flightless birds. "and first, i praise the nobler traits of birds preceding noah, the giant clan, whose meat was man, dinornis, apteryx, moa."--_courthope._ the steamer duck--the owl parrot--the flightless grebe of titicaca--the dodo and solitaire--the ostrich tribe--the penguin's wings. the poet who penned the above lines thought more of rhymes than of reasons--as poets so often do. what were their "nobler traits"? he omits to mention them. none of them were ever carnivorous: and the apteryx could by no stretch of the imagination be called a "giant." the one outstanding feature which does distinguish these birds he fails entirely to appreciate--and this is their flightless condition. a flightless bird is an anomaly. yet there are some who profess to believe that this state affords us an insight into the early stages of the evolution of the wing. as a matter of fact it demonstrates the exact opposite--its degeneration. how is it that birds ever came to such a pass? a study of living flightless birds, and birds that are well on the way to this condition, will afford us a ready answer. whenever we find birds living, so to speak, lives of languorous ease--where there are no enemies to be evaded, where there is an abundance of food to be picked up on the ground all the year round, and the climate is kindly, there flight is no longer practised. year by year, generation after generation passes by, and no use whatever is made of the wings. in all such cases these once most vital organs dwindle away, and finally vanish. we can trace every step in this process of decay. we may begin with the "steamer-duck" of the falklands. in this species, after the first moult, the power of flight is lost for ever. among living birds only a few species, apart from the ostrich-tribe, are in this dolorous case. the owl-parrot, or kakapo, of new zealand, is one of these. a grebe found only on lake titacaca, perched high up a mountain-side is another. in both these birds the keel of the sternum is represented by the merest vestige, the breast-bone being reduced to the condition found in the ostrich-tribe. the two giant pigeons, the dodo, and its cousin the solitaire, afford instances where the loss of flight has been followed by extinction; owing to the invasion of their haunts, through the agency of man, by pigs and other domesticated animals, which destroyed their eggs and young. the ostrich-tribe is peculiarly interesting: owing to the fact that their wings present a really wonderful series of degenerating stages. the wings of all differ conspicuously from those of other birds in the great length and looseness of the texture of the feathers. those of the african ostrich are the largest of all; but they are quite useless for the purpose of flight, though they are used as aids in running. in the south american ostrich, or rhea, they are also large, but again useless for flight, for the "quill-feathers" are very weak, and have no "web," such as one finds in the quills of flying birds. and besides, the muscles of the wing have degenerated, the breast-muscles having become reduced to mere vestiges. in both the african and south american ostriches, the skeleton of the wing, compared with, that, say, of a swan, would seem, to the inexpert, to be quite normal. but with the cassowary, the emu, or the apteryx matters are very different. here, at the first glance, it is apparent that the process of decay is far advanced; for the bones of the hand have, as it were, shrunk up, so that a mere stump is all that remains. the wing of the cassowary is further remarkable for the fact that some of the fore-arm quills, or "secondaries" are represented by long, stiff quills, resembling spines of a porcupine; the "vane" of the feather, which normally runs down each side of the shaft, has vanished altogether. what part they play in the bird's life history it is impossible to say. they certainly cannot be used as weapons, and they as certainly are not "ornaments." in the extinct moas the wing had still further degenerated. in some species no more than a stump of the upper arm bone was left, and in others not only this, but even the shoulder-girdle had vanished, so that only one pair of limbs remained. another remarkable flightless bird is the penguin. here the wing has changed its form to assume that of a paddle; superficially identical with that of the whale, or the turtle, or that of the extinct sea-dragon ichthyosaurus. these paddles have been "re-modelled," so to speak, to enable them to be used for what we may call flight under water. most birds which swim under water use the legs for propelling the body: but the penguin uses his paddles instead. the paddle of the turtle has similarly evolved out of a fore-leg used for walking on land. the common tortoise may be taken as the type of this leg. in the river, and pond-tortoises, the stumpy foot of the land-tortoise gives place to a broad, webbed foot. in the turtles this webbed foot gives place to the paddle. after what has been said about the penguin it is instructive to turn to the wings of the auk-tribe--the guillemot, razor-bill, and puffin. these are very efficient for normal flight, but they are equally efficient for use under water. for these birds swim as penguins do, when submerged. why then, did the penguin suffer the loss of the use of his wings for flight? [illustration: cassowary. penguin. ostrich. kiwi. ] this question leads to another. why did that giant razor-bill known as the great auk become flightless? it would seem that its wings somehow failed to keep pace with the growth of its body, so that while they remained sufficient for flight under water, they became useless for flight in the air. its failure in this led to its extinction, for it was unable to escape from its arch-enemy man. when the old-time sailors, somewhere about one hundred years ago, discovered its haunts in iceland could be profitably invaded for the purpose of collecting feathers, and bait, they speedily wiped out the race; for being flightless they were unable to escape the marauders once they had effected a landing. unhappily there was no bird protection society in those days, to stop this senseless slaughter. here our survey of birds on the wing ends. it began with flight through the air, it ends with flight through the water. it is not a little surprising, surely, to find that the same wing can be efficiently used for both these extremes of motion. and still more surprising to find that, this being so, the penguin should have been forced, so to speak, to adopt the expedient of evolving a paddle; and so forego the power of aerial locomotion. the skeleton of this wing, it was pointed out, differed in no essential from that of the typical avian wing. in some points, however, it has changed conspicuously. for the bones have become greatly flattened, and the several parts of the wing--arm, fore-arm, and hand--can no longer be bent upon one another in the z-shaped fashion of normal wings, while the "quill" or "flight-feathers" have been reduced to so small a size that they are unrecognizable. [illustration: vultures.] _cheltenham press ltd._ _cheltenham and london._ * * * * * transcriber's note all obvious typos were corrected and hyphenization was standardized. the italic labels on the illustration facing page 102 were standardized to match the other illustration's text. illustrations were repositioned so that paragraphs were not split. sky island being the further exciting adventures of trot and cap'n bill after their visit to the sea fairies by l. frank baum to my sister mary louise brewster contents 1. a mysterious arrival 2. the magic umbrella 3. a wonderful experience 4. the island in the sky 5. the boolooroo of the blues 6. the six snubnosed princesses 7. ghip-ghisizzle proves friendly 8. the blue city 9. the tribulation of trot 10. the king's treasure chamber 11. button-bright encounters the blue wolf 12. through the fog bank 13. the pink country 14. tourmaline the poverty queen 15. the sunrise tribe and the sunset tribe 16. rosalie the witch 17. the arrival of polychrome 18. mayre, queen of the pink country 19. the war of the pinks and blues 20. ghip-ghisizzle has a bad time 21. the capture of cap'n bill 22. trot's invisible adventure 23. the girl and the boolooroo 24. the amazing conquest of the blues 25. the ruler of sky island 26. trot celebrates the victory 27. the fate of the magic umbrella 28. the elephant's head comes to life 29. trot regulates the pinkies 30. the journey home a little talk to my readers with "the sea fairies," my book for 1911, i ventured into a new field of fairy literature and to my delight the book was received with much approval by my former readers, many of whom have written me that they like trot "almost as well as dorothy." as dorothy was an old, old friend and trot a new one, i think this is very high praise for cap'n bill's little companion. cap'n bill is also a new character who seems to have won approval, and so both trot and the old sailor are again introduced in the present story, which may be called the second of the series of adventures of trot and cap'n bill. but you will recognize some other acquaintances in "sky island." here, for instance, is button-bright, who once had an adventure with dorothy in oz, and without button-bright and his magic umbrella you will see that the story of "sky island" could never have been written. as polychrome, the rainbow's daughter, lives in the sky, it is natural that trot and button-bright meet her during their adventures there. this story of sky island has astonished me considerably, and i think it will also astonish you. the sky country is certainly a remarkable fair land, but after reading about it i am sure you will agree with me that our old mother earth is a very good place to live upon and that trot and button-bright and cap'n bill were fortunate to get back to it again. by the way, one of my little correspondents has suggested that i print my address in this book, so that the children may know where letters will reach me. i am doing this, as you see, and hope that many will write to me and tell me how they like "sky island." my greatest treasures are these letters from my readers and i am always delighted to receive them. l. frank baum. "ozcot" at hollywood in california a mysterious arrival chapter 1 "hello," said the boy. "hello," answered trot, looking up surprised. "where did you come from?" "philadelphia," said he. "dear me," said trot, "you're a long way from home, then." "'bout as far as i can get, in this country," the boy replied, gazing out over the water. "isn't this the pacific ocean?" "of course." "why of course?" he asked. "because it's the biggest lot of water in all the world." "how do you know?" "cap'n bill told me," she said. "who's cap'n bill?" "an old sailorman who's a friend of mine. he lives at my house, too--the white house you see over there on the bluff." "oh; is that your home?" "yes," said trot proudly. "isn't it pretty?" "it's pretty small, seems to me," answered the boy. "but it's big enough for mother and me, an' for cap'n bill," said trot. "haven't you any father?" "yes, 'ndeed. cap'n griffith is my father, but he's gone most of the time, sailin' on his ship. you mus' be a stranger in these parts, little boy, not to know 'bout cap'n griffith," she added, looking at her new acquaintance intently. trot wasn't very big herself, but the boy was not quite as big as trot. he was thin, with a rather pale complexion, and his blue eyes were round and earnest. he wore a blouse waist, a short jacket, and knickerbockers. under his arm he held an old umbrella that was as tall as he was. its covering had once been of thick, brown cloth, but the color had faded to a dull drab except in the creases, and trot thought it looked very old-fashioned and common. the handle, though, was really curious. it was of wood and carved to resemble an elephant's head. the long trunk of the elephant was curved to make a crook for the handle. the eyes of the beast were small red stones, and it had two tiny tusks of ivory. the boy's dress was rich and expensive, even to his fine silk stockings and tan shoes, but the umbrella looked old and disreputable. "it isn't the rainy season now," remarked tot with a smile. the boy glanced at his umbrella and hugged it tighter. "no," he said, "but umbrellas are good for other things 'sides rain." "'fraid of gett'n sun-struck?" asked trot. he shook his head, still gazing far out over the water. "i don't b'lieve this is bigger than any other ocean," said he. "i can't see any more of it than i can of the atlantic." "you'd find out if you had to sail across it," she declared. "when i was in chicago i saw lake michigan," he went on dreamily, "and it looked just as big as this water does." "looks don't count, with oceans," she asserted. "your eyes can only see jus' so far, whether you're lookin' at a pond or a great sea." "then it doesn't make any difference how big an ocean is," he replied. "what are those buildings over there?" pointing to the right, along the shore of the bay. "that's the town," said trot. "most of the people earn their living by fishing. the town is half a mile from here, an' my house is almost a half-mile the other way, so it's 'bout a mile from my house to the town." the boy sat down beside her on the flat rock. "do you like girls?" asked trot, making room for him. "not very well," the boy replied. "some of 'em are pretty good fellows, but not many. the girls with brothers are bossy, an' the girls without brothers haven't any 'go' to 'em. but the world's full o' both kinds, and so i try to take 'em as they come. they can't help being girls, of course. do you like boys?" "when they don't put on airs or get roughhouse," replied trot. "my 'sperience with boys is that they don't know much, but think they do." "that's true," he answered. "i don't like boys much better than i do girls, but some are all right, and--you seem to be one of 'em." "much obliged," laughed trot. "you aren't so bad, either, an' if we don't both turn out worse than we seem, we ought to be friends." he nodded rather absently and tossed a pebble into the water. "been to town?" he asked. "yes. mother wanted some yarn from the store. she's knittin' cap'n bill a stocking." "doesn't he wear but one?" "that's all. cap'n bill has one wooden leg," she explained. "that's why he don't sailor any more. i'm glad of it, 'cause cap'n bill knows ev'rything. i s'pose he knows more than anyone else in all the world." "whew!" said the boy. "that's taking a good deal for granted. a one-legged sailor can't know much." "why not?" asked trot a little indignantly. "folks don't learn things with their legs, do they?" "no, but they can't get around without legs to find out things." "cap'n bill got 'round lively 'nough once, when he had two meat legs," she said. "he's sailed to most ev'ry country on the earth, an' found out all that the people in 'em knew and a lot besides. he was shipwrecked on a desert island once, and another time a cannibal king tried to boil him for dinner, an' one day a shark chased him seven leagues through the water, an'--" "what's a league?" asked the boy. "it's a--a distance, like a mile is. but a league isn't a mile, you know." "what is it, then?" "you'll have to ask cap'n bill. he knows ever'thing." "not ever'thing," objected the boy. "i know some things cap'n bill don't know." "if you do, you're pretty smart," said trot. "no, i'm not smart. some folks think i'm stupid. i guess i am. but i know a few things that were wonderful. cap'n bill may know more'n i do--a good deal more--but i'm sure he can't know the same things. say, what's your name?" "i'm mayre griffith, but ever'body calls me 'trot.' i's a nickname i got when i was a baby, 'cause i trotted so fast when i walked, an' it seems to stick. what's your name?" "button-bright." "how did it happen?" "how did what happen?" "such a funny name." the boy scowled a little. "just like your own nickname happened," he answered gloomily. "my father once said i was bright as a button, an' it made ever'body laugh. so they always call me button-bright." "what's your real name?" she inquired. "saladin paracelsus de lambertine evagne von smith." "guess i'll call you button-bright," said trot, sighing. "the only other thing would be 'salad,' an' i don't like salads. don't you find it hard work to 'member all of your name?" "i don't try to," he said. "there's a lot more of it, but i've forgotten the rest." "thank you," said trot. "oh, here comes cap'n bill!" as she glanced over her shoulder. button-bright turned also and looked solemnly at the old sailor who came stumping along the path toward them. cap'n bill wasn't a very handsome man. he was old, not very tall, somewhat stout and chubby, with a round face, a bald head, and a scraggly fringe of reddish whisker underneath his chin. but his blue eyes were frank and merry, and his smile like a ray of sunshine. he wore a sailor shirt with a broad collar, a short peajacket and wide-bottomed sailor trousers, one leg of which covered his wooden limb but did not hide it. as he came "pegging" along the path--as he himself described his hobbling walk--his hands were pushed into his coat pockets, a pipe was in his mouth, and his black neckscarf was fluttering behind him in the breeze like a sable banner. button-bright liked the sailor's looks. there was something very winning--something jolly and carefree and honest and sociable--about the ancient seaman that made him everybody's friend, so the strange boy was glad to meet him. "well, well, trot," he said, coming up, "is this the way you hurry to town?" "no, for i'm on my way back," said she. "i did hurry when i was going, cap'n bill, but on my way home i sat down here to rest an' watch the gulls--the gulls seem awful busy today, cap'n bill--an' then i found this boy." cap'n bill looked at the boy curiously. "don't think as ever i sawr him at the village," he remarked. "guess as you're a stranger, my lad." button-bright nodded. "hain't walked the nine mile from the railroad station, have ye?" asked cap'n bill. "no," said button-bright. the sailor glanced around him. "don't see no waggin er no autymob'l," he added. "no," said button-bright. "catch a ride wi' some one?" button-bright shook his head. "a boat can't land here; the rocks is too thick an' too sharp," continued cap'n bill, peering down toward the foot of the bluff on which they sat and against which the waves broke in foam. "no," said button-bright, "i didn't come by water." trot laughed. "he must 'a' dropped from the sky, cap'n bill!" she exclaimed. button-bright nodded very seriously. "that's it," he said. "oh, a airship, eh?" cried cap'n bill in surprise. "i've hearn tell o' them sky keeridges; someth'n' like flyin' autymob'ls, ain't they?" "i don't know," said button-bright. "i've never seen one." both trot and cap'n bill now looked at the boy in astonishment. "now then, lemme think a minute," said the sailor reflectively. "here's a riddle for us to guess, trot. he dropped from the sky, he says, an' yet he didn't come in a airship!" "'riddlecum, riddlecum ree; what can the answer be?'" trot looked the boy over carefully. she didn't see any wings on him. the only queer thing about him was his big umbrella. "oh!" she said suddenly, clapping her hands together. "i know now." "do you?" asked cap'n bill doubtfully. "then you're some smarter ner i am, mate." "he sailed down with the umbrel!" she cried. "he used his umbrel as a para--para--" "shoot," said cap'n bill. "they're called parashoots, mate; but why, i can't say. did you drop down in that way, my lad?" he asked the boy. "yes," said button-bright. "that was the way." "but how did you get up there?" asked trot. "you had to get up in the air before you could drop down, an'--oh, cap'n bill! he says he's from phillydelfy, which is a big city way at the other end of america." "are you?" asked the sailor, surprised. button-bright nodded again. "i ought to tell you my story," he said, "and then you'd understand. but i'm afraid you won't believe me, and--" he suddenly broke off and looked toward the white house in the distance "--didn't you say you lived over there?" he inquired. "yes," said trot. "won't you come home with us?" "i'd like to," replied button-bright. "all right, let's go then," said the girl, jumping up. the three walked silently along the path. the old sailorman had refilled his pipe and lighted it again, and he smoked thoughtfully as he pegged along beside the children. "know anyone around here?" he asked button-bright. "no one but you two," said the boy, following after trot, with his umbrella tucked carefully underneath his arm. "and you don't know us very well," remarked cap'n bill. "seems to me you're pretty young to be travelin' so far from home an' among strangers. but i won't say anything more till we've heard your story. then, if you need my advice, or trot's advice--she's a wise little girl, fer her size, trot is--we'll freely give it an' be glad to help you." "thank you," replied button-bright. "i need a lot of things, i'm sure, and p'raps advice is one of 'em." the magic umbrella chapter 2 when they reached the neat frame cottage which stood on a high bluff a little back from the sea and was covered with pretty green vines, a woman came to the door to meet them. she seemed motherly and good, and when she saw button-bright, she exclaimed, "goodness me! who's this you've got, trot?" "it's a boy i've just found," explained the girl. "he lives way off in phillydelphy." "mercy sakes alive!" cried mrs. griffith, looking into his upturned face. "i don't believe he's had a bite to eat since he started. ain't you hungry, child?" "yes," said button-bright. "run, trot, an' get two slices o' bread-an'-butter," commanded mrs. griffith. "cut 'em thick, dear, an' use plenty of butter." "sugar on 'em?" asked trot, turning to obey. "no," said button-bright. "just bread-an'-butter's good enough when you're hungry, and it takes time to spread sugar on." "we'll have supper in an hour," observed trot's mother briskly, "but a hungry child can't wait a whole hour, i'm sure. what are you grinning at, cap'n bill? how dare you laugh when i'm talking? stop it this minute, you old pirate, or i'll know the reason why!" "i didn't, mum," said cap'n bill meekly. "i on'y--" "stop right there, sir! how dare you speak when i'm talking?" she turned to button-bright, and her tone changed to one of much gentleness as she said, "come in the house, my poor boy, an' rest yourself. you seem tired out. here, give me that clumsy umbrella." "no, please," said button-bright, holding the umbrella tighter. "then put it in the rack behind the door," she urged. the boy seemed a little frightened. "i--i'd rather keep it with me, if you please," he pleaded. "never mind," cap'n bill ventured to say, "it won't worry him so much to hold the umbrella, mum, as to let it go. guess he's afraid he'll lose it, but it ain't any great shakes, to my notion. why, see here, button-bright, we've got half-a-dozen umbrellas in the closet that's better ner yours." "perhaps," said the boy. "yours may look a heap better, sir, but--i'll keep this one, if you please." "where did you get it?" asked trot, appearing just then with a plate of bread-and-butter. "it--it belongs in our family," said button-bright, beginning to eat and speaking between bites. "this umbrella has been in our family years, an' years, an' years. but it was tucked away up in our attic an' no one ever used it 'cause it wasn't pretty." "don't blame 'em much," remarked cap'n bill, gazing at it curiously. "it's a pretty old-lookin' bumbershoot." they were all seated in the vine-shaded porch of the cottage--all but mrs. griffith, who had gone into the kitchen to look after the supper--and trot was on one side of the boy, holding the plate for him, while cap'n bill sat on the other side. "it is old," said button-bright. "one of my great-great-grandfathers was a knight--an arabian knight--and it was he who first found this umbrella." "an arabian night!" exclaimed trot. "why, that was a magic night, wasn't it?" "there's diff'rent sorts o' nights, mate," said the sailor, "an' the knight button-bright means ain't the same night you mean. soldiers used to be called knights, but that were in the dark ages, i guess, an' likely 'nough butt'n-bright's great-gran'ther were that sort of a knight." "but he said an arabian knight," persisted trot. "well, if he went to araby, or was born there, he'd be an arabian knight, wouldn't he? the lad's gran'ther were prob'ly a furriner, an' yours an' mine were, too, trot, if you go back far enough; for ameriky wasn't diskivered in them days." "there!" said trot triumphantly. "didn't i tell you, button-bright, that cap'n bill knows ever'thing?" "he knows a lot, i expect," soberly answered the boy, finishing the last slice of bread-and-butter and then looking at the empty plate with a sigh. "but if he really knows ever'thing, he knows about the magic umbrella, so i won't have to tell you anything about it." "magic!" cried trot with big, eager eyes. "did you say magic umbrel, button-bright?" "i said 'magic.' but none of our family knew it was a magic umbrella till i found it out for myself. you're the first people i've told the secret to," he added, glancing into their faces rather uneasily. "glory me!" exclaimed the girl, clapping her hands in ecstacy. "it must be jus' elegant to have a magic umbrel!" cap'n bill coughed. he had a way of coughing when he was suspicious. "magic," he observed gravely, "was once lyin' 'round loose in the world. that was in the dark ages, i guess, when the magic arabian nights was. but the light o' civilization has skeered it away long ago, an' magic's been a lost art since long afore you an' i was born, trot." "i know that fairies still live," said trot reflectively. she didn't like to contradict cap'n bill, who knew "ever'thing." "so do i," added button-bright. "and i know there's magic still in the world--or in my umbrella, anyhow." "tell us about it!" begged the girl excitedly. "well," said the boy, "i found it all out by accident. it rained in philadelphia for three whole days, and all the umbrellas in our house were carried out by the family and lost or mislaid or something, so that when i wanted to go to uncle bob's house, which is at germantown, there wasn't an umbrella to be found. my governess wouldn't let me go without one, and--" "oh," said trot. "do you have a governess?" "yes, but i don't like her. she's cross. she said i couldn't go to uncle bob's because i had no umbrella. instead she told me to go up in the attic and play. i was sorry 'bout that, but i went up in the attic, and pretty soon i found in a corner this old umbrella. i didn't care how it looked. it was whole and strong and big, and would keep me from getting wet on the way to uncle bob's. so off i started for the car, but i found the streets awful muddy, and once i stepped in a mud-hole way up to my ankle. 'gee!,' i said, 'i wish i could fly through the air to uncle bob's.' "i was holding up the open umbrella when i said that, and as soon as i spoke, the umbrella began lifting me up into the air. i was awful scared at first, but i held on tight to the handle, and it didn't pull very much, either. i was going pretty fast, for when i looked down all the big buildings were sliding past me so swift that it made me dizzy, and before i really knew what had happened the umbrella settled down and stood me on my feet at uncle bob's front gate. "i didn't tell anybody about the wonderful thing that had happened, 'cause i thought no one would believe me. uncle bob looked sharp at the thing an' said, 'button-bright, how did your father happen to let you take that umbrella?' 'he didn't,' i said. 'father was away at the office, so i found it in the attic an' i jus' took it.' then uncle bob shook his head an' said i ought to leave it alone. he said it was a fam'ly relic that had been handed down from father to son for many generations. but i told him my father had never handed it to me, though i'm his son. uncle bob said our fam'ly always believed that it brought 'em good luck to own this umbrella. he couldn't say why, not knowing its early history, but he was afraid that if i lost the umbrella, bad luck would happen to us. so he made me go right home to put the umbrella back where i got it. i was sorry uncle bob was so cross, and i didn't want to go home yet, where the governess was crosser 'n he was. i wonder why folks get cross when it rains? but by that time it had stopped raining--for awhile, anyhow--and uncle bob told me to go straight home and put the umbrella in the attic an' never touch it again. "when i was around the corner, i thought i'd see if i could fly as i had before. i'd heard of buffalo, but i didn't know just where it was, so i said to the umbrella, 'take me to buffalo.' up in the air i went, just as soon as i said it, and the umbrella sailed so fast that i felt as if i was in a gale of wind. it was a long, long trip, and i got awful tired holding onto the handle, but just as i thought i'd have to let go, i began to drop down slowly, and then i found myself in the streets of a big city. i put down the umbrella and asked a man what the name of the city was, and he said 'buffalo'." "how wonderful!" gasped trot. cap'n bill kept on smoking and said nothing. "it was magic, i'm sure," said button-bright. "it surely couldn't have been anything else." "p'raps," suggested trot, "the umbrella can do other magic things." "no," said the boy. "i've tried it. when i landed in buffalo i was hot and thirsty. i had ten cents car fare, but i was afraid to spend it. so i held up the umbrella and wished i had an ice-cream soda, but i didn't get it. then i wished for a nickel to buy an ice-cream soda with, but i didn't get that, either. i got frightened and was afraid the umbrella didn't have any magic left, so to try it i said 'take me to chicago.' i didn't want to go to chicago, but that was the first place i thought of, and i soon saw this was going to be another long journey, so i called out to the umbrella, 'never mind. stop! i guess i won't go to chicago. i've changed my mind, so take me home again.' but the umbrella wouldn't. it kept right on flying, and i shut my eyes and held on. at last i landed in chicago, and then i was in a pretty fix. it was nearly dark, and i was too tired and hungry to make the trip home again. i knew i'd get an awful scolding, too, for running away and taking the family luck with me, so i thought that as long as i was in for it, i'd better see a good deal of the country while i had the chance. i wouldn't be allowed to come away again, you know." "no, of course not," said trot. "i bought some buns and milk with my ten cents, and then i walked around the streets of chicago for a time and afterward slept on a bench in one of the parks. in the morning i tried to get the umbrella to give me a magic breakfast, but it won't do anything but fly. i went to a house and asked a woman for something to eat, and she gave me all i wanted and advised me to go straight home before my mother worried about me. she didn't know i lived in philadelphia. that was this morning." "this mornin'!" exclaimed cap'n bill. "why, lad, it takes three or four days for the railroad trains to get to this coast from chicago." "i know," replied button-bright. "but i didn't come on a railroad train. this umbrella goes faster than any train ever did. this morning i flew from chicago to denver, but no one there would give me any lunch. a policeman said he'd put me in jail if he caught me begging, so i got away and told the umbrella to take me to the pacific ocean. when i stopped i landed over there by the big rock. i shut up the umbrella and saw a girl sitting on the rock, so i went up and spoke to her. that's all." "goodness me!" said trot. "if that isn't a fairy story, i never heard one." "it is a fairy story," agreed button-bright. "anyhow, it's a magic story, and the funny part of it is, it's true. i hope you believe me, but i don't know as i'd believe it myself if it hadn't been me that it happened to." "i believe ev'ry word of it!" declared trot earnestly. "as fer me," said cap'n bill slowly, "i'm goin' to believe it, too, by'm'by, when i've seen the umbrel fly once." "you'll see me fly away with it," asserted the boy. "but at present it's pretty late in the day, and philadelphia is a good way off. do you s'pose, trot, your mother would let me stay here all night?" "course she would!" answered trot. "we've got an extra room with a nice bed in it, and we'd love to have you stay just as long as you want to, wouldn't we, cap'n bill?" "right you are, mate," replied the old man, nodding his bald head. "whether the umbrel is magic or not, butt'n-bright is welcome." mrs. griffith came out soon after and seconded the invitation, so the boy felt quite at home in the little cottage. it was not long before supper was on the table and in spite of all the bread-and-butter he had eaten button-bright had a fine appetite for the good things trot's mother had cooked. mrs. griffith was very kind to the children, but not quite so agreeable toward poor cap'n bill. when the old sailorman at one time spilled some tea on the tablecloth, trot's mother flew angry and gave the culprit such a tongue-lashing that button-bright was sorry for him. but cap'n bill was meek and made no reply. "he's used to it, you know," whispered trot to her new friend, and indeed, cap'n bill took it all cheerfully and never minded a bit. then it came trot's turn to get a scolding. when she opened the parcel she had bought at the village, it was found she had selected the wrong color of yarn, and mrs. griffith was so provoked that trot's scolding was almost as severe as that of cap'n bill. tears came to the little girl's eyes, and to comfort her the boy promised to take her to the village next morning with his magic umbrella, so she could exchange the yarn for the right color. trot quickly brightened at this promise, although cap'n bill looked grave and shook his head solemnly. when supper was over and trot had helped with the dishes, she joined button-bright and the sailorman on the little porch again. dusk had fallen, and the moon was just rising. they all sat in silence for a time and watched the silver trail that topped the crests of the waves far out to sea. "oh, button-bright!" cried the little girl presently. "i'm so glad you're going to let me fly with you way to town and back tomorrow. won't it be fine, cap'n bill?" "dunno, trot," said he. "i can't figger how both of you can hold on to the handle o' that umbrel." trot's face fell. "i'll hold on to the handle," said button-bright, "and she can hold on to me. it doesn't pull hard at all. you've no idea how easy it is to fly that way after you get used to it." "but trot ain't used to it," objected the sailor. "if she happened to lose her hold and let go, it's goodbye trot. i don't like to risk it, for trot's my chum, an' i can't afford to lose her." "can't you tie us together, then?" asked the boy. "we'll see, we'll see," replied cap'n bill, and began to think very deeply. he forgot that he didn't believe the umbrella could fly, and after button-bright and trot had both gone to bed, the old sailor went out into the shed and worked a while before he, too, turned into his "bunk." the sandman wasn't around, and cap'n bill lay awake for hours thinking of the strange tale of the magic umbrella before he finally sank into slumber. then he dreamed about it, and waking or dreaming he found the tale hard to believe. a wonderful experience chapter 3 they had early breakfasts at trot's house, because they all went to bed early, and it is possible to sleep only a certain number of hours if one is healthy in body and mind. and right after breakfast trot claimed button-bright's promise to take her to town with the magic umbrella. "any time suits me," said the boy. he had taken his precious umbrella to bed with him and even carried it to the breakfast table, where he stood it between his knees as he ate; so now he held it close to him and said he was ready to fly at a moment's notice. this confidence impressed cap'n bill, who said with a sigh: "well, if you must go, trot, i've pervided a machine that'll carry you both comf'table. i'm summat of an inventor myself, though there ain't any magic about me." then he brought from the shed the contrivance he had made the night before. it was merely a swing seat. he had taken a wide board that was just long enough for both the boy and girl to sit upon, and had bored six holes in it, two holes at each end and two in the middle. through these holes he had run stout ropes in such a way that the seat could not turn and the occupants could hold on to the ropes on either side of them. the ropes were all knotted together at the top, where there was a loop that could be hooked upon the crooked handle of the umbrella. button-bright and trot both thought cap'n bill's invention very clever. the sailor placed the board upon the ground while they sat in their places, button-bright at the right of trot, and then the boy hooked the rope loop to the handle of the umbrella, which he spread wide open. "i want to go to the town over yonder," he said, pointing with his finger to the roofs of the houses that showed around the bend in the cliff. at once the umbrella rose into the air, slowly at first, but quickly gathering speed. trot and button-bright held fast to the ropes and were carried along very easily and comfortably. it seemed scarcely a minute before they were in the town, and when the umbrella set them down just in front of the store--for it seemed to know just where they wanted to go--a wondering crowd gathered around them. trot ran in and changed the yarn, while button-bright stayed outside and stared at the people who stared at him. they asked questions, too, wanting to know what sort of an aeroplane this was and where his power was stored and lots of other things, but the boy answered not a sound. when the little girl came back and took her seat, button-bright said, "i want to go to trot's house." the simple villagers could not understand how the umbrella suddenly lifted the two children into the air and carried them away. they had read of airships, but here was something wholly beyond their comprehension. cap'n bill had stood in front of the house, watching with a feeling akin to bewilderment the flight of the magic umbrella. he could follow its course until it descended in the village, and he was so amazed and absorbed that his pipe went out. he had not moved from his position when the umbrella started back. the sailor's big blue eyes watched it draw near and settle down with its passengers upon just the spot it had started from. trot was joyous and greatly excited. "oh, cap'n, it's gal-lor-ious!" she cried in ecstasy. "it beats ridin' in a boat or--or--in anything else. you feel so light an' free an'--an'--glad! i'm sorry the trip didn't last longer, though. only trouble is, you go too fast." button-bright was smiling contentedly. he had proved to both trot and cap'n bill that he had told the truth about the magic umbrella, however marvelous his tale had seemed to them. "i'll take you on another trip, if you like," said he. "i'm in no hurry to go home, and if you will let me stay with you another day, we can make two or three little trips with the family luck." "you mus' stay a whole week," said trot decidedly. "an' you mus' take cap'n bill for an air-ride, too." "oh, trot! i dunno as i'd like it," protested cap'n bill nervously. "yes you would. you're sure to like it." "i guess i'm too heavy." "i'm sure the umbrella could carry twenty people if they could be fastened to the handle," said button-bright. "solid land's pretty good to hold on to," decided cap'n bill. "a rope might break, you know." "oh, cap'n bill! you're scared stiff," said trot. "i ain't, mate. it ain't that at all. but i don't see that human critters has any call to fly in the air, anyhow. the air were made for the birds, an'--an' muskeeters, an'--" "an' flyin'-fishes," added trot. "i know all that, cap'n, but why wasn't it made for humans, too, if they can manage to fly in it? we breathe the air, an' we can breathe it high up, just as well as down on the earth." "seein' as you like it so much, trot, it would be cruel for me to go with butt'n-bright an' leave you at home," said the sailor. "when i were younger--which is ancient history--an' afore i had a wooden leg, i could climb a ship's ropes with the best of 'em, an' walk out on a boom or stand atop a mast. so you know very well i ain't skeered about the highupness." "why can't we all go together?" asked the boy. "make another seat, cap'n, and swing it right under ours. then we can all three ride anywhere we want to go." "yes, do!" exclaimed trot. "and see here, cap'n, let's take a day off and have a picnic. mother is a little cross today, and she wants to finish knitting your new stockin', so i guess she'll be glad to get rid of us." "where'll we go?" he asked, shifting on his wooden leg uneasily. "anywhere. i don't care. there'll be the air-ride there an' the air-ride back, an' that's the main thing with me. if you say we'll go, cap'n, i'll run in an' pack a basket of lunch." "how'll we carry it?" "swing it to the bottom of your seat." the old sailor stood silent a moment. he really longed to take the air-ride but was fearful of danger. however, trot had gone safely to town and back and had greatly enjoyed the experience. "all right," he said. "i'll risk it, mate, although i guess i'm an old fool for temptin' fate by tryin' to make a bird o' myself. get the lunch, trot, if your mother'll let you have it, and i'll rig up the seat." he went into the shed and trot went to her mother. mrs. griffith, busy with her work, knew nothing of what was going on in regard to the flight of the magic umbrella. she never objected when trot wanted to go away with cap'n bill for a day's picnicking. she knew the child was perfectly safe with the old sailor, who cared for trot even better than her mother would have done. if she had asked any questions today and had found out they intended to fly in the air, she might have seriously objected, but mrs. griffith had her mind on other things and merely told the girl to take what she wanted from the cupboard and not bother her. so trot, remembering that button-bright would be with them and had proved himself to be a hearty eater, loaded the basket with all the good things she could find. by the time she came out, lugging the basket with both hands, cap'n bill appeared with the new seat he had made for his own use, which he attached by means of ropes to the double seat of the boy and girl. "now then, where'll we go?" asked trot. "anywhere suits me," replied cap'n bill. they had walked to the high bluff overlooking the sea, where a gigantic acacia tree stood on the very edge. a seat had been built around the trunk of the tree, for this was a favorite spot for trot and cap'n bill to sit and talk and watch the fleet of fishing boats sail to and from the village. when they came to this tree, trot was still trying to think of the most pleasant place to picnic. she and cap'n bill had been every place that was desirable and nearby, but today they didn't want a nearby spot. they must decide upon one far enough away to afford them a fine trip through the air. looking far out over the pacific, the girl's eyes fell upon a dim island lying on the horizon line just where the sky and water seemed to meet, and the sight gave her an idea. "oh, cap'n bill!" she exclaimed. "let's go to that island for our picnic. we've never been there yet, you know." the sailor shook his head. "it's a good many miles away, trot," he said, "further than it looks to be from here." "that won't matter," remarked button-bright. "the umbrella will carry us there in no time." "let's go!" repeated trot. "we'll never have another such chance, cap'n. it's too far to sail or row, and i've always wanted to visit that island." "what's the name of it?" inquired button-bright while the sailor hesitated to decide. "oh, it's got an awful hard name to pernounce," replied the girl, "so cap'n bill and i jus' call it 'sky island' 'cause it looks as if it was half in the sky. we've been told it's a very pretty island, and a few people live there and keep cows and goats and fish for a living. there are woods and pastures and springs of clear water, and i'm sure we would find it a fine place for a picnic." "if anything happened on the way," observed cap'n bill, "we'd drop in the water." "of course," said trot, "and if anything happened while we were flyin' over the land, we'd drop there. but nothing's goin' to happen, cap'n. didn't button-bright come safe all the way from philydelfy?" "i think i'd like to go to sky island," said the boy. "i've always flown above the land so far, and it will be something new to fly over the ocean." "all right, i'm agree'ble," decided cap'n bill. "but afore we starts on such a long journey, s'pose we make a little trial trip along the coast. i want to see if the new seat fits me an' make certain the umbrel will carry all three of us." "very well," said button-bright. "where shall we go?" "let's go as far as smuggler's cove an' then turn 'round an' come back. if all's right an' shipshape, then we can start for the island." they put the broad double seat on the ground, and then the boy and girl sat in their places and button-bright spread open the magic umbrella. cap'n bill sat in his seat just in front of them, all being upon the ground. "don't we look funny?" said trot with a chuckle of glee. "but hold fast the ropes, cap'n, an' take care of your wooden leg." button-bright addressed the umbrella, speaking to it very respectfully, for it was a thing to inspire awe. "i want to go as far as smuggler's cove and then turn around in the air and come back here," he said. at once the umbrella rose into the air, lifting after it first the seat in which the children sat, and then cap'n bill's seat. "don't kick your heels, trot!" cried the sailor in a voice that proved he was excited by his novel experience. "you might bump me in the nose." "all right," she called back. "i'll be careful." it was really a wonderful, exhilarating ride, and cap'n bill wasn't long making up his mind he liked the sensation. when about fifty feet above the ground the umbrella began moving along the coast toward smuggler's cove, which it soon reached. looking downward, cap'n bill suddenly exclaimed, "why, there' a boat cast loose, an' it's goin' to smash on the rocks. hold on a minute, butt'n-bright, till we can land an' drag it ashore." "hold on a minute, umbrella!" cried the boy. but the magic umbrella kept steadily upon its way. it made a circle over the cove and then started straight back the way it had come. "it's no use, sir," said button-bright to the sailor. "if i once tell it to go to a certain place, the umbrella will go there, and nowhere else. i've found that out before this. you simply can't stop it." "won't let you change your mind, eh?" replied cap'n bill. "well, that has its advantidges, an' its disadvantiges. if your ol' umbrel hadn't been so obstinate, we could have saved that boat." "never mind," said trot briskly, "here we are safe back again. wasn't it jus' the--the fascinatingest ride you ever took, cap'n?" "it's pretty good fun," admitted cap'n bill. "beats them aeroplanes an' things all holler, 'cause it don't need any regulatin.'" "if we're going to that island, we may as well start right away," said button-bright when they had safely landed. "all right. i'll tie on the lunch-basket," answered the sailor. he fastened it so it would swing underneath his own seat, and they all took their places again. "ready?" asked the boy. "let 'er go, my lad." "i want to go to sky island," said button-bright to the umbrella, using the name trot had given him. the umbrella started promptly. it rose higher than before, carrying the three voyagers with it, and then started straight away over the ocean. the island in the sky chapter 4 they clung tightly to the ropes, but the breeze was with them, so after a few moments, when they became accustomed to the motion, they began to enjoy the ride immensely. larger and larger grew the island, and although they were headed directly toward it, the umbrella seemed to rise higher and higher into the air the farther it traveled. they had not journeyed ten minutes before they came directly over the island, and looking down they could see the forests and meadows far below them. but the umbrella kept up its rapid flight. "hold on, there!" cried cap'n bill. "if it ain't keerful, the ol' thing will pass by the island." "i--i'm sure it has passed it already," exclaimed trot. "what's wrong, button-bright? why don't we stop?" button-bright seemed astonished, too. "perhaps i didn't say it right," he replied after a moment's thought. then, looking up at the umbrella, he repeated distinctly, "i said i wanted to go to sky island! sky island, don't you understand?" the umbrella swept steadily along, getting farther and farther out to sea and rising higher and higher toward the clouds. "mack'rel an' herrings!" roared cap'n bill, now really frightened. "ain't there any blamed way at all to stop her?" "none that i know of," said button-bright anxiously. "p'raps," said trot after a pause during which she tried hard to think. "p'raps 'sky island' isn't the name of that island at all." "why, we know very well it ain't the name of it," yelled cap'n bill from below. "we jus' called it that 'cause its right name is too hard to say." "that's the whole trouble, then," returned button-bright. "somewhere in the world there's a real sky island, and having told the magic umbrella to take us there, it's going to do so." "well, i declare!" gasped the sailorman. "can't we land anywhere else?" "not unless you care to tumble off," said the boy. "i've told the umbrella to take us to sky island, so that's the exact place we're bound for. i'm sorry. it was your fault for giving me the wrong name." they glided along in silence for a while. the island was now far behind them, growing small in the distance. "where do you s'pose the real sky island can be?" asked trot presently. "we can't tell anything about it until we get there," button-bright answered. "seems to me i've heard of the isle of skye, but that's over in great britain, somewhere the other side of the world, and it isn't sky island, anyhow." "this miser'ble ol' umbrel is too pertic'ler," growled cap'n bill. "it won't let you change your mind an' it goes ezzac'ly where you say." "if it didn't," said trot, "we'd never know where we were going." "we don't know now," said the sailor. "one thing's certain, folks: we're gett'n' a long way from home." "and see how the clouds are rolling just above us," remarked the boy, who was almost as uneasy as cap'n bill. "we're in the sky, all right," said the girl. "if there could be an island up here among the clouds, i'd think it was there we're going." "couldn't there be one?" asked button-bright. "why couldn't there be an island in the sky that would be named sky island?" "of course not!" declared cap'n bill. "there wouldn't be anything to hold it up, you know." "what's holding us up?" asked trot. "magic, i guess." "then magic might hold an island in the sky. whee-e-e! what a black cloud!" it grew suddenly dark, for they were rushing through a thick cloud that rolled around them in billows. trot felt little drops of moisture striking her face and knew her clothing was getting damp and soggy. "it's a rain cloud," she said to button-bright, "and it seems like an awful big one, 'cause it takes so long for us to pass through it." the umbrella never hesitated a moment. it made a path through the length of the heavy, black cloud at last and carried its passengers into a misty, billowy bank of white, which seemed as soft and fleecy as a lady's veil. when this broke away, they caught sight of a majestic rainbow spanning the heavens, its gorgeous colors glinting brightly in the sun, its arch perfect and unbroken from end to end. but it was only a glimpse they had, for quickly they dove into another bank of clouds and the rainbow disappeared. here the clouds were not black, nor heavy, but they assumed queer shapes. some were like huge ships, some like forest trees, and others piled themselves into semblances of turreted castles and wonderful palaces. the shapes shifted here and there continually, and the voyagers began to be bewildered by the phantoms. "seems to me we're goin' down," called trot. "down where?" asked cap'n bill. "who knows?" said button-bright. "but we're dropping, all right." it was a gradual descent. the magic umbrella maintained a uniform speed, swift and unfaltering, but its path through the heavens was now in the shape of an arch, as a flying arrow falls. the queer shapes of the clouds continued for some time, and once or twice trot was a little frightened when a monstrous airy dragon passed beside them or a huge giant stood upon a peak of cloud and stared savagely at the intruders into his domain. but none of these fanciful, vapory creatures seemed inclined to molest them or to interfere with their flight, and after a while the umbrella dipped below this queer cloudland and entered a clear space where the sky was of an exquisite blue color. "oh, look!" called cap'n bill. "there's land below us." the boy and girl leaned over and tried to see this land, but cap'n bill was also leaning over, and his big body hid all that was just underneath them. "is it an island?" asked trot solemnly. "seems so," the old sailor replied. "the blue is around all one side of it an' a pink sunshine around the other side. there's a big cloud just over the middle, but i guess it's surely an island, trot, an' bein' as it's in the sky, it's likely to be sky island." "then we shall land there," said the boy confidently. "i knew the umbrella wouldn't make a mistake." presently cap'n bill spoke again. "we're goin' down on the blue part o' the island," he said. "i can see trees an' ponds an' houses. hold tight, trot! hold tight, butt'n-bright! i'm afeared we're a'goin' to bump somethin'!" they were certainly dropping very quickly now, and the rush of air made their eyes fill with water so that they could not see much below them. suddenly, the basket that was dangling below cap'n bill struck something with a loud thud, and this was followed by a yell of anger. cap'n bill sat flat upon the ground, landing with such a force that jarred the sailorman and made his teeth click together, while down upon him came the seat that trot and button-bright occupied, so that for a moment they were all tangled up. "get off from me! get off from my feet, i say!" cried an excited voice. "what in the sky do you mean by sitting on my feet? get off! get off at once!" the boolooroo of the blues chapter 5 cap'n bill suspected that these remarks were addressed to him, but he couldn't move just then because the seat was across him, and a boy and girl were sprawling on the seat. as the magic umbrella was now as motionless as any ordinary umbrella might be, button-bright first released the catch and closed it up, after which he unhooked the crooked handle from the rope and rose to his feet. trot had managed by this time to stand up, and she pulled the board off from cap'n bill. all this time the shrill, excited voice was loudly complaining because the sailor was on his feet, and trot looked to see who was making the protest, while cap'n bill rolled over and got on his hands and knees so he could pull his meat leg and his wooden leg into an upright position, which wasn't a very easy thing to do. button-bright and trot were staring with all their might at the queerest person they had ever seen. they decided it must be a man because he had two long legs, a body as round as a ball, a neck like an ostrich, and a comical little head set on the top of it. but the most curious thing about him was his skin, which was of a lovely sky-blue tint. his eyes were also sky-blue, and his hair, which was trained straight up and ended in a curl at the top of his head, was likewise blue in color and matched his skin and his eyes. he wore tight-fitting clothes made of sky-blue silk, with a broad blue ruffle around his long neck, and on his breast glittered a magnificent jewel in the form of a star, set with splendid blue stones. if the blue man astonished the travelers, they were no less surprised by his surroundings, for look where they might, everything they beheld was of the same blue color as the sky above. they seemed to have landed in a large garden, surrounded by a high wall of blue stone. the trees were all blue, the grass was blue, the flowers were blue, and even the pebbles in the paths were blue. there were many handsomely carved benches and seats of blue wood scattered about the garden, and near them stood a fountain made of blue marble, which shot lovely sprays of blue water into the blue air. but the angry inhabitants of this blue place would not permit them to look around them in peace, for as soon as cap'n bill rolled off his toes, he began dancing around in an excited way and saying very disrespectful things of his visitors. "you brutes! you apes! you miserable, white-skinned creatures! how dare you come into my garden and knock me on the head with that awful basket and then fall on my toes and cause me pain and suffering? how dare you, i say? don't you know you will be punished for your impudence? don't you know the boolooroo of the blues will have revenge? i can have you patched for this insult, and i will--just as sure as i'm the royal boolooroo of sky island!" "oh, is this sky island, then?" asked trot. "of course it's sky island. what else could it be? and i'm its ruler, its king, its sole royal potentate and dictator. behold in the personage you have injured the mighty quitey righty boolooroo of the blues!" here he strutted around in a very pompous manner and wagged his little head contemptuously at them. "glad to meet you, sir," said cap'n bill. "i allus had a likin' for kings, bein' as they're summat unusual. please 'scuse me for a-sittin' on your royal toes, not knowin' as your toes were there." "i won't excuse you!" roared the boolooroo. "but i'll punish you. you may depend upon that." "seems to me," said trot, "you're actin' rather imperlite to strangers. if anyone comes to our country to visit us, we always treat 'em decent." "your country!" exclaimed the boolooroo, looking at them more carefully and seeming interested in their appearance. "where in the sky did you come from, then, and where is your country located?" "we live on the earth when we're at home," replied the girl. "the earth? nonsense! i've heard of the earth, my child, but it isn't inhabited. no one can live there because it's just a round, cold, barren ball of mud and water," declared the blueskin. "oh, you're wrong about that," said button-bright. "you surely are," added cap'n bill. "why, we live there ourselves," cried trot. "i don't believe it. i believe you are living in sky island, where you have no right to be, with your horrid white skins. and you've intruded into the private garden of the palace of the greatly stately irately boolooroo, which is a criminal offense. and you've bumped my head with your basket and smashed my toes with your boards and bodies, which is a crime unparalleled in all the history of sky island! aren't you sorry for yourselves?" "i'm sorry for you," replied trot, "'cause you don't seem to know the proper way to treat visitors. but we won't stay long. we'll go home pretty soon." "not until you have been punished!" exclaimed the boolooroo sternly. "you are my prisoners." "beg parding, your majesty," said cap'n bill, "but you're takin' a good deal for granted. we've tried to be friendly and peaceable, an' we've 'poligized for hurtin' you, but if that don't satisfy you, you'll have to make the most of it. you may be the boolooroo of the blues, but you ain't even a tin whistle to us, an' you can't skeer us for half a minute. i'm an ol' man, myself, but if you don't behave, i'll spank you like i would a baby, an' it won't be any trouble at all to do it, thank'e. as a matter o' fact, we've captured your whole bloomin' blue island, but we don't like the place very much, and i guess we'll give it back. it gives us the blues, don't it, trot? so as soon as we eat a bite of lunch from our basket, we'll sail away again." "sail away? how?" asked the boolooroo. "with the magic umbrel," said cap'n bill, pointing to the umbrella that button-bright was holding underneath his arm. "oh, ho! i see, i see," said the boolooroo, nodding his funny head. "go ahead, then, and eat your lunch." he retreated a little way to a marble seat beside the fountain, but watched the strangers carefully. cap'n bill, feeling sure he had won the argument, whispered to the boy and girl that they must eat and get away as soon as possible, as this might prove a dangerous country for them to remain in. trot longed to see more of the strange blue island, and especially wanted to explore the magnificent blue palace that adjoined the garden and which had six hundred tall towers and turrets; but she felt that her old friend was wise in advising them to get away quickly. so she opened the basket, and they all three sat in a row on a stone bench and began to eat sandwiches and cake and pickles and cheese and all the good things that were packed in the lunch basket. they were hungry from the long ride, and while they ate they kept their eyes busily employed in examining all the queer things around them. the boolooroo seemed quite the queerest of anything, and trot noticed that when he pulled the long curl that stuck up from the top of his head, a bell tinkled somewhere in the palace. he next pulled at the bottom of his right ear, and another faraway bell tinkled; then he touched the end of his nose, and still another bell was faintly heard. the boolooroo said not a word while he was ringing the bells, and trot wondered if that was the way he amused himself. but now the frown died away from his face and was replaced with a look of satisfaction. "have you nearly finished?" he inquired. "no," said trot, "we've got to eat our apples yet." "apples? apples? what are apples?" he asked. trot took some from the basket. "have one?" she said. "they're awful good." the boolooroo advanced a step and took the apple, which he regarded with much curiosity. "guess they don't grow anywhere but on the earth," remarked cap'n bill. "are they good to eat?" asked the boolooroo. "try it and see," answered trot, biting into an apple herself. the blueskin sat down on the end of their bench, next to button-bright, and began to eat his apple. he seemed to like it, for he finished it in a hurry, and when it was gone he picked up the magic umbrella. "let that alone!" said button-bright, making a grab for it. but the boolooroo jerked it away in an instant, and standing up he held the umbrella behind him and laughed aloud. "now then," said he, "you can't get away until i'm willing to let you go. you are my prisoners." "i guess not," returned cap'n bill, and reaching out one of his long arms, the sailorman suddenly grasped the boolooroo around his long, thin neck and shook him until his whole body fluttered like a flag. "drop that umbrel. drop it!" yelled cap'n bill, and the boolooroo quickly obeyed. the magic umbrella fell to the ground, and button-bright promptly seized it. then the sailor let go his hold and the king staggered to a seat, choking and coughing to get his breath back. "i told you to let things alone," growled cap'n bill. "if you don't behave, your majesty, this blue island'll have to get another boolooroo." "why?" asked the blueskin. "because i'll prob'ly spoil you for a king, an' mebbe for anything else. anyhow, you'll get badly damaged if you try to interfere with us, an' that's a fact." "don't kill him, cap'n bill," said trot cheerfully. "kill me? why, he couldn't do that," observed the king, who was trying to rearrange the ruffle around his neck. "nothing can kill me." "why not?" asked cap'n bill. "because i haven't lived my six hundred years yet. perhaps you don't know that every blueskin in sky island lives exactly six hundred years from the time he is born." "no, i didn't know that," admitted the sailor. "it's a fact," said the king. "nothing can kill us until we've lived to the last day of our appointed lives. when the final minute is up, we die; but we're obliged to live all of the six hundred years whether we want to or not. so you needn't think of trying to kill anybody on sky island. it can't be done." "never mind," said cap'n bill. "i'm no murderer, thank goodness, and i wouldn't kill you if i could, much as you deserve it." "but isn't six hundred years an awful long time to live?" questioned trot. "it seems like it at first," replied the king, "but i notice that whenever any of my subjects get near the end of their six hundred, they grow nervous and say the life is altogether too short." "how long have you lived?" asked button-bright. the king coughed again and turned a bit bluer. "that is considered an impertinent question in sky island," he answered, "but i will say that every boolooroo is elected to reign three hundred years, and i've reigned not quite--ahem!--two hundred." "are your kings elected, then?" asked cap'n bill. "yes, of course. this is a republic, you know. the people elect all their officers from the king down. every man and every woman is a voter. the boolooroo tells them whom to vote for, and if they don't obey, they are severely punished. it's a fine system of government, and the only thing i object to is electing the boolooroo for only three hundred years. it ought to be for life. my successor has already been elected, but he can't reign for a hundred years to come." "i think three hundred years is plenty long enough," said trot. "it gives someone else a chance to rule, an' i wouldn't be s'prised if the next king is a better one. seems to me you're not much of a boolooroo." "that," replied the king indignantly, "is a matter of opinion. i like myself very much, but i can't expect you to like me, because you're deformed and ignorant." "i'm not!" cried trot. "yes, you are. your legs are too short and your neck is nothing at all. your color is most peculiar, but there isn't a shade of blue about any of you, except the deep-blue color of the clothes the old ape that choked me wears. also, you are ignorant because you know nothing of sky island, which is the center of the universe and the only place anyone would care to live." "don't listen to him, trot," said button-bright. "he's an ignorant himself." cap'n bill packed up the lunch basket. one end of the rope was still tied to the handle of the basket, and the other end to his swing seat, which lay on the ground before them. "well," said he, "let's go home. we've seen enough of this blue country and its blue boolooroo, i guess, an' it's a long journey back again." "all right," agreed trot, jumping up. button-bright stood on the bench and held up the magic umbrella, so he could open it, and the sailor had just attached the ropes when a thin blue line shot out from behind them and in a twinkling wound itself around the umbrella. at the same instant another blue cord wound itself around the boy's body, and others caught trot and cap'n bill in their coils, so that all had their arms pinned fast to their sides and found themselves absolutely helpless. the six snubnosed princesses chapter 6 the boolooroo was laughing and dancing around in front of them as if well pleased. for a moment the prisoners could not imagine what had happened to them, but presently half a dozen blueskins, resembling in shape and costume their ruler but less magnificently dressed, stepped in front of them and bowed low to the boolooroo. "your orders, most mighty, flighty, tight and righty monarch, have been obeyed," said the leader. "very well, captain. take that umbrella and carry it to my royal treasury. see that it is safely locked up. here's the key, and if you don't return it to me within five minutes, i'll have you patched." the captain took the key and the magic umbrella and hastened away to the palace. button-bright had already hooked the ropes to the elephant-trunk handle, so that when the captain carried away the umbrella, he dragged after him first the double seat, then cap'n bill's seat, which was fastened to it, and finally the lunch-basket, which was attached to the lower seat. at every few steps some of these would trip up the captain and cause him to take a tumble, but as he had only five minutes' time in which to perform his errand, he would scramble to his feet again and dash along the path until a board or the basket tripped him up again. they all watched him with interest until he had disappeared within the palace, when the king turned to his men and said: "release the prisoners. they are now quite safe, and cannot escape me." so the men unwound the long cords that were twined around the bodies of our three friends, and set them free. these men seemed to be soldiers, although they bore no arms except the cords. each cord had a weight at the end, and when the weight was skillfully thrown by a soldier, it wound the cord around anything in the twinkling of an eye and held fast until it was unwound again. trot decided these blueskins must have stolen into the garden when summoned by the bells the boolooroo had rung, but they had kept out of sight and crept up behind the bench on which our friends were seated until a signal from the king aroused them to action. the little girl was greatly surprised by the suddenness of her capture, and so was button-bright. cap'n bill shook his head and said he was afeared they'd get into trouble. "our mistake," he added, "was in stoppin' to eat our lunch. but it's too late now to cry over spilt milk." "i don't mind, not much anyhow," asserted trot bravely. "we're in no hurry to get back, are we, button-bright?" "i'm not," said the boy. "if they hadn't taken the umbrella, i wouldn't care how long we stopped in this funny island. do you think it's a fairy country, trot?" "can't say, i'm sure," she answered. "i haven't seen anything here yet that reminds me of fairies, but cap'n bill said a floating island in the sky was sure to be a fairyland." "i think so yet, mate," returned the sailor. "but there's all sorts o' fairies, i've heard. some is good, an' some is bad, an' if all the blueskins are like their boolooroo, they can't be called fust-class." "don't let me hear any more impudence, prisoners!" called the boolooroo sternly. "you are already condemned to severe punishment, and if i have any further trouble with you, you are liable to be patched." "what's being patched?" inquired the girl. the soldiers all laughed at this question, but the king did not reply. just then a door in the palace opened and out trooped a group of girls. there were six of them, all gorgeously dressed in silken gowns with many puffs and tucks and ruffles and flounces and laces and ribbons, everything being in some shade of blue, grading from light blue to deep blue. their blue hair was elaborately dressed and came to a point at the top of their heads. the girls approached in a line along the garden path, all walking with mincing steps and holding their chins high. their skirts prevented their long legs from appearing as grotesque as did those of the men, but their necks were so thin and long that the ruffles around them only made them seem the more absurd. "ah," said the king with a frown, "here come the six snubnosed princesses, the most beautiful and aristocratic ladies in sky island." "they're snubnosed, all right," observed trot, looking at the girls with much interest, "but i should think it would make 'em mad to call 'em that." "why?" asked the boolooroo in surprise. "is not a snub nose the highest mark of female beauty?" "is it?" asked the girl. "most certainly. in this favored island, which is the center of the universe, a snub nose is an evidence of high breeding which any lady would be proud to possess." the six snubnosed princesses now approached the fountain and stood in a row, staring with haughty looks at the strangers. "goodness me, your majesty!" exclaimed the first. "what queer, dreadful-looking creatures are these? where in all the sky did they come from?" "they say they came from the earth, cerulia," answered the boolooroo. "but that is impossible," said another princess. "our scientists have proved that the earth is not inhabited." "your scientists'll have to guess again, then," said trot. "but how did they get to sky island?" inquired the third snubnosed one. "by means of a magic umbrella, which i have captured and put away in my treasure chamber," replied the boolooroo. "what will you do with the monsters, papa?" asked the fourth princess. "i haven't decided yet," said the boolooroo. "they're curiosities, you see, and may serve to amuse us. but as they're only half civilized, i shall make them my slaves." "what are they good for? can they do anything useful?" asked the fifth. "we'll see," returned the king impatiently. "i can't decide in a hurry. give me time, azure, give me time. if there's anything i hate, it's a hurry." "i've an idea, your majesty," announced the sixth snubnosed princess, whose complexion was rather darker than that of her sisters, "and it has come to me quite deliberately, without any hurry at all. let us take the little girl to be our maid--to wait upon us and amuse us when we're dull. all the other ladies of the court will be wild with envy, and if the child doesn't prove of use to us, we can keep her for a living pincushion." "oh! ah! that will be fine!" cried all the other five, and the boolooroo said: "very well, indigo, it shall be as you desire." then he turned to trot and added, "i present you to the six lovely snubnosed princesses, to be their slave. if you are good and obedient, you won't get your ears boxed oftener than once an hour." "i won't be anybody's slave," protested trot. "i don't like these snubnosed, fussy females, an' i won't have anything to do with 'em." "how impudent!" cried cerulia. "how vulgar!" cried turquoise. "how unladylike!" cried sapphire. "how silly!" cried azure. "how absurd!" cried cobalt. "how wicked!" cried indigo. and then all six held up their hands as if horrified. the boolooroo laughed. "you'll know how to bring her to time, i imagine," he remarked, "and if the girl isn't reasonable and obedient, send her to me and i'll have her patched. now, then, take her away." but trot was obstinate and wouldn't budge a step. "keep us together, your majesty," begged cap'n bill. "if we're to be slaves, don't separate us, but make us all the same kind o' slaves." "i shall do what pleases me," declared the boolooroo angrily. "don't try to dictate, old moonface, for there's only one royal will in sky island, and that's my own." he then gave a command to a soldier, who hastened away to the palace and soon returned with a number of long, blue ribbons. one he tied around trot's waist and then attached to it six other ribbons. each of the six snubnosed princesses held the end of a ribbon, and then they turned and marched haughtily away to the palace, dragging the little girl after them. "don't worry, trot," cried button-bright. "we'll get you out of this trouble pretty soon." "trust to us, mate," added cap'n bill. "we'll manage to take care o' you." "oh, i'm all right," answered trot with fine courage. "i'm not afraid of these gawkies." but the princesses pulled her after them, and soon they had all disappeared into one of the entrances to the blue palace. "now, then," said the boolooroo. "i will instruct you two in your future duties. i shall make old moonface--" "my name's cap'n bill weedles," interrupted the sailor. "i don't care what your name is. i shall call you old moonface," replied the king, "for that suits you quite well. i shall appoint you the royal nectar mixer to the court of sky island, and if you don't mix our nectar properly, i'll have you patched." "how do you mix it?" asked cap'n bill. "i don't mix it. it's not the boolooroo's place to mix nectar," was the stern reply. "but you may inquire of the palace servants, and perhaps the royal chef or the major-domo will condescend to tell you. take him to the servants' quarters, captain ultramarine, and give him a suit of the royal livery." so cap'n bill was lad away by the chief of the soldiers, and when he had gone, the king said to button-bright, "you, slave, shall be the royal bootblue. your duty will be to keep the boots and shoes of the royal family nicely polished with blue." "i don't know how," answered button-bright surlily. "you'll soon learn. the royal steward will supply you with blue paste, and when you've brushed this on our shoes, you must shine them with q-rays of moonshine. do you understand?" "no," said button-bright. then the boolooroo told one of the soldiers to take the boy to the shoeblue den and have him instructed in his duties, and the soldiers promptly obeyed and dragged button-bright away to the end of the palace where the servants lived. ghip-ghisizzle proves friendly chapter 7 the royal palace was certainly a magnificent building, with large and lofty rooms and superb furnishings, all being in shades of blue. the soldier and the boy passed through several broad corridors and then came to a big hall where many servants were congregated. these were staring in bewilderment at cap'n bill, who had been introduced to them by captain ultramarine. now they turned in no less surprise to examine the boy, and their looks expressed not only astonishment but dislike. the servants were all richly attired in blue silk liveries, and they seemed disposed to resent the fact that these strangers had been added to their ranks. they scowled and muttered and behaved in a very unfriendly way, even after captain ultramarine had explained that the newcomers were merely base slaves, and not to be classed with the free royal servants of the palace. one of those present, however, showed no especial enmity to button-bright and cap'n bill, and this blueskin attracted the boy's notice because his appearance was so strange. he looked as if he were made of two separate men, each cut through the middle and then joined together, half of one to half of the other. one side of his blue hair was curly and the other half straight; one ear was big and stuck out from the side of his head, while the other ear was small and flat; one eye was half shut and twinkling, while the other was big and staring; his nose was thin on one side and flat on the other, while one side of his mouth curled up and the other down. button-bright also noticed that he limped as he walked because one leg was a trifle longer than the other, and that one hand was delicate and slender and the other thick and hardened by use. "don't stare at him," a voice whispered in the boy's ear. "the poor fellow has been patched, that's all." button-bright turned to see who had spoken and found by his side a tall young blueskin with a blue-gold chain around his neck. he was quite the best looking person the boy had seen in sky island, and he spoke in a pleasant way and seemed quite friendly. but the two-sided man had overheard the remark, and he now stepped forward and said in a careless tone: "never mind. it's no disgrace to be patched in a country ruled by such a cruel boolooroo as we have. let the boy look at me if he wants to. i'm not pretty, but that's not my fault. blame the boolooroo." "i--i'm glad to meet you, sir," stammered button-bright. "what is your name, please?" "i'm now named jimfred jonesjinks, and my partner is called fredjim jinksjones. he's busy at present guarding the treasure chamber, but i'll introduce you to him when he comes back. we've had the misfortune to be patched, you know." "what is being patched?" asked the boy. "they cut two of us in halves and mismatch the halves--half of one to half of the other, you know--and then the other two halves are patched together. it destroys our individuality and makes us complex creatures, so it's the worst punishment than can be inflicted in sky island." "oh," said button-bright, alarmed at such dreadful butchery. "doesn't it hurt?" "no, it doesn't hurt," replied jimfred. "but it makes one frightfully nervous. they stand you under a big knife, which drops and slices you neatly in two, exactly in the middle. then they match half of you to another person who has likewise been sliced, and there you are, patched to someone you don't care about and haven't much interest in. if your half wants to do something, the other half is likely to want to do something different, and the funny part of it is you don't quite know which is your half and which is the other half. it's a terrible punishment, and in a country where one can't die or be killed until he has lived his six hundred years, to be patched is a great misfortune." "i'm sure it is," said button-bright earnestly. "but can't you ever get--get--unpatched again?" "if the boolooroo would consent, i think it could be done," jimfred replied, "but he never will consent. this is about the meanest boolooroo who ever ruled this land, and he was the first to invent patching people as a punishment. i think we will all be glad when his three hundred years of rule are ended." "when will that be?" inquired the boy. "hush-sh-sh!" cried everyone in a chorus, and they all looked over their shoulders as if frightened by the question. the officer with the blue-gold chain pulled button-bright's sleeve and whispered, "follow me, please." and then he beckoned to cap'n bill and led the two slaves to another room where they were alone. "i must instruct you in your duties," said he when they were all comfortably seated in cozy chairs with blue cushions. "you must learn how to obey the boolooroo's commands, so he won't become angry and have you patched." "how could he patch us?" asked the sailorman curiously. "oh, he'd just slice you all in halves and then patch half of the boy to half of the girl, and the other half to half of you, and the other half of you to the other half of the girl. see?" "can't say i do," said cap'n bill, much bewildered. "it's a reg'lar mix-up." "that's what it's meant to be," explained the young officer. "an' seein' as we're earth folks, an' not natives of sky island, i've an idea the slicing machine would about end us, without bein' patched," continued the sailor. "oh," said button-bright, "so it would." "while you are in this country, you can't die till you've lived six hundred years," declared the officer. "oh," said button-bright. "that's different, of course. but who are you, please?" "my name is ghip-ghi-siz-zle. can you remember it?" "i can 'member the 'sizzle,'" said the boy, "but i'm 'fraid the gwip--grip--glip--" "ghip-ghi-siz-zle" repeated the officer slowly. "i want you to remember my name, because if you are going to live here, you are sure to hear of me a great many times. can you keep a secret?" "i can try," said button-bright. "i've kep' secrets--once in a while," asserted cap'n bill. "well, try to keep this one. i'm to be the next boolooroo of sky island." "good for you!" cried the sailor. "i wish you was the boolooroo now, sir. but it seems you've got to wait a hundred years or more afore you can take his place." ghip-ghisizzle rose to his feet and paced up and down the room for a time, a frown upon his face. then he halted and faced cap'n bill. "sir," said he, "there lies all my trouble. i'm quite sure the present boolooroo has reigned three hundred years next thursday, but he claims it is only two hundred years, and as he holds the royal book of records under lock and key in the royal treasury, there is no way for us to prove he is wrong." "oh," said button-bright. "how old is the boolooroo?" "he was two hundred years old when he was elected," replied ghip-ghisizzle. "if he has already reigned three hundred years as i suspect, then he is now five hundred years old. you see, he is trying to steal another hundred years of rule so as to remain a tyrant all his life." "he don't seem as old as that," observed cap'n bill thoughtfully. "why, i'm only sixty myself, an' i guess i look twice as old as your king does." "we do not show our age in looks," the officer answered. "i am just about your age, sir--sixty-two my next birthday--but i'm sure i don't look as old as that." "that's a fact," agreed cap'n bill. then he turned to button-bright and added, "don't that prove sky island is a fairy country as i said?" "oh, i've known that all along," said the boy. "the slicing and patching proves it, and so do lots of other things." "now then," said ghip-ghisizzle, "let us talk over your duties. it seems you must mix the royal nectar, cap'n bill. do you know how to do that?" "i'm free to say as i don't, friend sizzle." "the boolooroo is very particular about his nectar. i think he has given you this job so he can find fault with you and have you punished. but we will fool him. you are strangers here, and i don't want you imposed upon. i'll send tiggle to the royal pantry and keep him there to mix the nectar. then when the boolooroo or the queen or any of the snubnosed princesses call for a drink, you can carry it to them and it will be sure to suit them." "thank'e sir," said cap'n bill. "that's real kind of you." "your job, button-bright, is easier," continued ghip-ghisizzle. "i'm no bootblack," declared the boy. "the boolooroo has no right to make me do his dirty work." "you're a slave," the officer reminded him, "and a slave must obey." "why?" asked button-bright. "because he can't help himself. no slave ever wants to obey, but he just has to. and it isn't dirty work at all. you don't black the royal boots and shoes, you merely blue them with a finely perfumed blue paste. then you shine them neatly and your task is done. you will not be humiliated by becoming a bootblack. you'll be a bootblue." "oh," said button-bright. "i don't see much difference, but perhaps it's a little more respectable." "yes, the royal bootblue is considered a high official in sky island. you do your work at evening or early morning, and the rest of the day you are at liberty to do as you please." "it won't last long, button-bright," said cap'n bill consolingly. "somethin's bound to happen pretty soon, you know." "i think so myself," answered the boy. "and now," remarked ghip-ghisizzle, "since you understand your new duties, perhaps you'd like to walk out with me and see the blue city and the glorious blue country of sky island." "we would that!" cried cap'n bill promptly. so they accompanied their new friend through a maze of passages--for the palace was very big--and then through a high, arched portal into the streets of the city. so rapid had been their descent when the umbrella landed them in the royal garden that they had not even caught a glimpse of the blue city, so now they gazed with wonder and interest at the splendid sights that met their eyes. the blue city chapter 8 the blue city was quite extensive, and consisted of many broad streets paved with blue marble and lined with splendid buildings of the same beautiful material. there were houses and castles and shops for the merchants, and all were prettily designed and had many slender spires and imposing turrets that rose far into the blue air. everything was blue here, just as was everything in the royal palace and gardens, and a blue haze overhung all the city. "doesn't the sun ever shine?" asked cap'n bill. "not in the blue part of sky island," replied ghip-ghisizzle. "the moon shines here every night, but we never see the sun. i am told, however, that on the other half of the island--which i have never seen--the sun shines brightly but there is no moon at all." "oh," said button-bright. "is there another half to sky island?' "yes, a dreadful place called the pink country. i'm told everything there is pink instead of blue. a fearful place it must be, indeed!" said the blueskin with a shudder. "i dunno 'bout that," remarked cap'n bill. "that pink country sounds kind o' cheerful to me. is your blue country very big?" "it is immense," was the proud reply. "this enormous city extends a half mile in all directions from the center, and the country outside the city is fully a half-mile further in extent. that's very big, isn't it?" "not very," replied cap'n bill with a smile. "we've cities on the earth ten times bigger, an' then some big besides. we'd call this a small town in our country." "our country is thousands of miles wide and thousands of miles long--it's the great united states of america!" added the boy earnestly. ghip-ghisizzle seemed astonished. he was silent a moment, and then he said, "here in sky island we prize truthfulness very highly. our boolooroo is not very truthful, i admit, for he is trying to misrepresent the length of his reign, but our people as a rule speak only the truth." "so do we," asserted cap'n bill. "what button-bright said is the honest truth, every word of it." "but we have been led to believe that sky island is the greatest country in the universe--meaning, of course, our half of it, the blue country." "it may be for you, perhaps," the sailor stated politely. "an' i don't imagine any island floatin' in the sky is any bigger. but the universe is a big place, an' you can't be sure of what's in it till you've traveled like we have." "perhaps you are right," mused the blueskin, but he still seemed to doubt them. "is the pink side of sky island bigger than the blue side?" asked button-bright. "no, it is supposed to be the same size," was the reply. "then why haven't you ever been there? seems to me you could walk across the whole island in an hour," said the boy. "the two parts are separated by an impassable barrier," answered ghip-ghisizzle. "between them lies the great fog bank." "a fog bank? why, that's no barrier!" exclaimed cap'n bill. "it is indeed," returned the blueskin. "the fog bank is so thick and heavy that it blinds one, and if once you got into the bank, you might wander forever and not find your way out again. also, it is full of dampness that wets your clothes and your hair until you become miserable. it is furthermore said that those who enter the fog bank forfeit the six hundred years allowed them to live and are liable to die at any time. here we do not die, you know; we merely pass away." "how's that?" asked the sailor. "isn't 'pass'n' away' jus' the same as dyin'?" "no indeed. when our six hundred years are ended, we march into the great blue grotto, through the arch of phinis, and are never seen again." "that's queer," said button-bright. "what would happen if you didn't march through the arch?" "i do not know, for no one has ever refused to do so. it is the law, and we all obey it." "it saves funeral expenses, anyhow," remarked cap'n bill. "where is this arch?" "just outside the gates of the city. there is a mountain in the center of the blue land, and the entrance to the great blue grotto is at the foot of the mountain. according to our figures, the boolooroo ought to march into this grotto a hundred years from next thursday, but he is trying to steal a hundred years and so perhaps he won't enter the arch of phinis. therefore, if you will please be patient for about a hundred years, you will discover what happens to one who breaks the law." "thank'e," remarked cap'n bill. "i don't expect to be very curious a hundred years from now." "nor i," added button-bright, laughing at the whimsical speech. "but i don't see how the boolooroo is able to fool you all. can't any of you remember two or three hundred years back when he first began to rule?" "no," said ghip-ghisizzle, "that's a long time to remember, and we blueskins try to forget all we can, especially whatever is unpleasant. those who remember are usually the unhappy ones; only those able to forget find the most joy in life." during this conversation they had been walking along the streets of the blue city, where many of the blueskin inhabitants stopped to gaze wonderingly at the sailor and the boy, whose strange appearance surprised them. they were a nervous, restless people, and their egg-shaped heads, set on the ends of long, thin necks, seemed so grotesque to the strangers that they could scarcely forbear laughing at them. the bodies of these people were short and round and their legs exceptionally long, so when a blueskin walked, he covered twice as much ground at one step as cap'n bill or button-bright did. the women seemed just as repellent as the men, and button-bright began to understand that the six snubnosed princesses were, after all, rather better looking than most of the females of the blue country and so had a certain right to be proud and haughty. there were no horses nor cows in this land, but there were plenty of blue goats, from which the people got their milk. children tended the goats--wee blueskin boys and girls whose appearance was so comical that button-bright laughed whenever he saw one of them. although the natives had never seen before this any human beings made as button-bright and cap'n bill were, they took a strong dislike to the strangers and several times threatened to attack them. perhaps if ghip-ghisizzle, who was their favorite, had not been present, they would have mobbed our friends with vicious ill-will and might have seriously injured them. but ghip-ghisizzle's friendly protection made them hold aloof. by and by they passed through a city gate, and their guide showed them the outer walls, which protected the city from the country beyond. there were several of these gates, and from their recesses stone steps led to the top of the wall. they mounted a flight of these steps and from their elevation plainly saw the low mountain where the arch of phinis was located, and beyond that the thick, blue-gray fog bank, which constantly rolled like billows of the ocean and really seemed, from a distance, quite forbidding. "but it wouldn't take long to get there," decided button-bright, "and if you were close up, it might not be worse than any other fog. is the pink country on the other side of it?" "so we are told in the book of records," replied ghip-ghisizzle. "none of us now living know anything about it, but the book of records calls it the 'sunset country' and says that at evening the pink shades are drowned by terrible colors of orange and crimson and golden-yellow and red. wouldn't it be horrible to be obliged to look upon such a sight? it must give the poor people who live there dreadful headaches." "i'd like to see that book of records," mused cap'n bill, who didn't think the description of the sunset country at all dreadful. "i'd like to see it myself," returned ghip-ghisizzle with a sigh, "but no one can lay hands on it because the boolooroo keeps it safely locked up in his treasure chamber." "where's the key to the treasure chamber?" asked button-bright. "the boolooroo keeps it in his pocket night and day," was the reply. "he is afraid to let anyone see the book because it would prove he has already reigned three hundred years next thursday, and then he would have to resign the throne to me and leave the palace and live in a common house." "my magic umbrella is in that treasure chamber," said button-bright, "and i'm going to try to get it." "are you?" inquired ghip-ghisizzle eagerly. "well, if you manage to enter the treasure chamber, be sure to bring me the book of records. if you can do that, i will be the best and most grateful friend you ever had!" "i'll see," said the boy. "it ought not to be hard work to break into the treasure chamber. is it guarded?" "yes. the outside guard is jimfred jinksjones, the double patch of the fredjim whom you have met, and the inside guard is a ravenous creature known as the blue wolf, which has teeth a foot long and as sharp as needles." "oh," said button-bright. "but never mind the blue wolf; i must manage to get my umbrella somehow or other." they now walked back to the palace, still objects of much curiosity to the natives, who sneered at them and mocked them but dared not interfere with their progress. at the palace they found that dinner was about to be served in the big dining hall of the servants and dependents and household officers of the royal boolooroo. ghip-ghisizzle was the majordomo and master of ceremonies, so he took his seat at the end of the long table and placed cap'n bill on one side of him and button-bright on the other, to the great annoyance of the other blueskins present, who favored the strangers with nothing pleasanter than envious scowls. the boolooroo and his queen and daughters--the six snubnosed princesses--dined in formal state in the banquet hall, where they were waited upon by favorite soldiers of the royal bodyguard. here in the servants' hall there was one vacant seat next to button-bright which was reserved for trot; but the little girl had not yet appeared, and the sailorman and the boy were beginning to be uneasy about her. the tribulation of trot chapter 9 the apartments occupied by the six snubnosed princesses were so magnificent that when trot first entered them, led by her haughty captors, she thought they must be the most beautiful rooms in the world. there was a long and broad reception room, with forty-seven windows in it, and opening out of it were six lovely bedchambers, each furnished in the greatest luxury. adjoining each sleeping room was a marble bath, and each princess had a separate boudoir and a dressing room. the furnishings were of the utmost splendor, blue-gold and blue gems being profusely used in the decorations, while the divans and chairs were of richly carved bluewood upholstered in blue satins and silks. the draperies were superbly embroidered, and the rugs upon the marble floors were woven with beautiful scenes in every conceivable shade of blue. when they first reached the reception room, princess azure cast herself upon a divan while her five sisters sat or reclined in easy chairs with their heads thrown back and their blue chins scornfully elevated. trot, who was much annoyed at the treatment she had received, did not hesitate to seat herself also in a big easy chair. "slave!" cried princess cerulia, "fetch me a mirror." "slave!" cried princess turquoise, "a lock of my hair is loosened; bind it up." "slave!" cried princess cobalt, "unfasten my shoes; they're too tight." "slave!" cried princess sapphire, "bring hither my box of blue chocolates." "slave!" cried princess azure, "stand by my side and fan me." "slave!" cried princess indigo, "get out of that chair. how dare you sit in our presence?" "if you're saying all those things to me," replied trot, "you may as well save your breath. i'm no slave." and she cuddled down closer in the chair. "you are a slave!" shouted the six all together. "i'm not!" "our father, the revered and resplendent royal ruler of the blues, has made you our slave," asserted indigo with a yawn. "but he can't," objected the little girl. "i'm some royal an' rapturous an' ridic'lous myself, an' i won't allow any cheap boolooroo to order me 'round." "are you of royal birth?" asked azure, seeming surprised. "royal! why, i'm an american, snubnoses, and if there's anything royaler than an american, i'd like to know what it is." the princesses seemed uncertain what reply to make to this speech and began whispering together. finally, indigo said to trot, "we do not think it matters what you were in your own country, for having left there you have forfeited your rank. by recklessly intruding into our domain, you have become a slave, and being a slave you must obey us or suffer the consequences." "what cons'quences?" asked the girl. "dare to disobey us and you will quickly find out," snapped indigo, swaying her head from side to side on its long, swan-like neck like the pendulum of a clock. "i don't want any trouble," said trot gravely. "we came to sky island by mistake and wanted to go right away again; but your father wouldn't let us. it isn't our fault we're still here, an' i'm free to say you're a very dis'gree'ble an' horrid lot of people with no manners to speak of, or you'd treat us nicely." "no impertinence!" cried indigo savagely. "why, it's the truth," replied trot. indigo made a rush and caught trot by both shoulders. the princess was twice the little girl's size, and she shook her victim so violently that trot's teeth rattled together. then princess cobalt came up and slapped one side of the slave's face, and princess turquoise ran forward and slapped the other side. cerulia gave trot a push one way, and sapphire pushed her the other way, so the little girl was quite out of breath and very angry when finally her punishment ceased. she had not been much hurt, though, and she was wise enough to understand that these princesses were all cruel and vindictive, so that her safest plan was to pretend to obey them. "now then," commanded princess indigo, "go and feed my little blue dog that crows like a rooster." "and feed my pretty blue cat that sings like a bird," said princess azure. "and feed my soft, blue lamb that chatters like a monkey," said princess cobalt. "and feed my poetic blue parrot that barks like a dog," said princess sapphire. "and feed my fuzzy blue rabbit that roars like a lion," said princess turquoise. "and feed my lovely blue peacock that mews like a cat," said princess cerulia. "anything else?" asked trot, drawing a long breath. "not until you have properly fed our pets," replied azure with a scowl. "what do they eat, then?" "meat!" "milk!" "clover!" "seeds!" "bread!" "carrots!" "all right," said trot, "where do you keep the menagerie?" "our pets are in our boudoirs," said indigo harshly. "what a little fool you are!" "perhaps," said trot, pausing as she was about to leave the room, "when i grow up i'll be as big a fool as any of you." then she ran away to escape another shaking, and in the first boudoir she found the little blue dog curled up on a blue cushion in a corner. trot patted his head gently, and this surprised the dog, who was accustomed to cuffs and kicks. so he licked trot's hand and wagged his funny little tail and then straightened up and crowed like a rooster. the girl was delighted with the queer doggie, and she found some meat in a cupboard and fed him out of her hand, patting the tiny creature and stroking his soft blue hair. the doggie had never in his life known anyone so kind and gentle, so when trot went into the next boudoir, the animal followed close at her heels, wagging his tail every minute. the blue cat was asleep on a window seat, but it woke up when trot tenderly took it in her lap and fed it milk from a blue-gold dish. it was a pretty cat and instantly knew the little girl was a friend vastly different from its own bad-tempered mistress, so it sang beautifully as a bird sings, and both the cat and the dog followed trot into the third boudoir. here was a tiny baby lamb with fleece as blue as a larkspur and as soft as milk. "oh, you darling!" cried trot, hugging the little lamb tight in her arms. at once the lamb began chattering just as a monkey chatters, only in the most friendly and grateful way, and trot fed it a handful of fresh blue clover and smoothed and petted it until the lamb was eager to follow her wherever she might go. when she came to the fourth boudoir, a handsome blue parrot sat on a blue perch and began barking as if it were nearly starved. then it cried out, "rub-a-dub, dub, gimme some grub!" trot laughed and gave it some seeds, and while the parrot ate them she stroked gently his soft feathers. the bird seemed much astonished at the unusual caress and turned upon the girl first one little eye and then the other as if trying to discover why she was so kind. he had never experienced kind treatment in all his life. so it was no wonder that when the little girl entered the fifth boudoir she was followed by the parrot, the lamb, the cat and the dog, who all stood beside her and watched her feed the peacock, which she found strutting around and mewing like a cat for his dinner. said the parrot, "i spy a peacock's eye on every feather. i wonder why?" the peacock soon came to love trot as much as the other bird and all the beasts did, and it spread its tail and strutted after her into the next boudoir, the sixth one. as she entered this room, trot gave a start of fear, for a terrible roar like the roar of a lion greeted her. but there was no lion there; a fuzzy, blue rabbit was making all the noise. "for goodness sake keep quiet," said trot. "here's a nice blue carrot for you. the color seems all wrong, but it may taste jus' as good as if it was red." evidently it did taste good, for the rabbit ate it greedily. when it was not roaring, the creature was so soft and fluffy that trot played with it and fondled it a long time after it had finished eating, and the rabbit played with the cat and the dog and the lamb and did not seem a bit afraid of the parrot or the peacock. but all of a sudden in pounced princess indigo with a yell of anger. "so this is how you waste your time, is it?" exclaimed the princess, and grabbing trot's arm, she jerked the girl to her feet and began pushing her from the room. all the pets began to follow her, and seeing this, indigo yelled at them to keep back. as they paid no attention to this command, the princess seized a basin of water and dashed the fluid over the beasts and birds, after which she renewed her attempt to push trot from the room. the pets rebelled at such treatment, and believing they ought to protect trot, whom they knew to be their friend, they proceeded to defend her. the little blue dog dashed at indigo and bit her right ankle, while the blue cat scratched her left leg with its claws and the parrot flew upon her shoulder and pecked her ear. the lamb ran up and butted indigo so that she stumbled forward on her face, when the peacock proceeded to pound her head with his wings. indigo, screaming with fright, sprang to her feet again, but the rabbit ran between her legs and tripped her up, all the time roaring loudly like a lion, and the dog crowed triumphantly, as a rooster crows, while the cat warbled noisily and the lamb chattered and the parrot barked and the peacock screeched "me-ow!" altogether, indigo was, as trot said, "scared stiff," and she howled for help until her sisters ran in and rescued her, pulling her through the bedchamber into the reception room. when she was alone, trot sat down on the floor and laughed until the tears came to her eyes, and she hugged all the pets and kissed them every one and thanked them for protecting her. "that's all right; we like a fight," declared the parrot in reply. the princesses were horrified to find indigo so scratched and bitten, and they were likewise amazed at the rebellion of their six pets, which they had never petted, indeed, but kept in their boudoirs so they could abuse them whenever they felt especially wicked or ill-natured. none of the snubnosed ones dared enter the room where the girl was, but they called through a crack in the door for trot to come out instantly. trot, pretending not to hear, paid no attention to these demands. finding themselves helpless and balked of their revenge, the six snubnosed princesses finally recovered from their excitement and settled down to a pleasant sisterly quarrel, as was their customary amusement. indigo wanted to have trot patched, and cerulia wanted her beaten with knotted cords, and cobalt wanted her locked up in a dark room, and sapphire wanted her fed on sand, and turquoise wanted her bound to a windmill, and so between these various desires, they quarreled and argued until dinner time arrived. trot was occupying indigo's room, so that princess was obliged to dress with azure, not daring to enter her own chamber, and the two sisters quarreled so enthusiastically that they almost came to blows before they were ready for dinner. before the six snubnosed princesses went to the royal banquet hall, cobalt stuck her head through a crack of the door and said to trot, "if you want any dinner, you'll find it in the servants' hall. i advise you to eat, for after our dinner we will decide upon a fitting punishment for you, and then i'm sure you won't have much appetite." "thank you," replied the girl. "i'm right hungry, jus' now." she waited until the snubnosed sextette had pranced haughtily away, and then she came out, followed by all the pets, and found her way to the servants' quarters. the king's treasure chamber chapter 10 all the blueskins assembled in the servants' hall were amazed to see the pets of the princesses trailing after the strange little girl, but trot took her place next to button-bright at the table, and the parrot perched upon her shoulder, while the peacock stood upon one side of her chair, and the lamb upon the other, and the cat and dog lay at her feet and the blue rabbit climbed into her lap and cuddled down there. some of the blueskins insisted that the animals and birds must be put out of the room, but ghip-ghisizzle said they could remain, as they were the favored pets of the lovely snubnosed princesses. cap'n bill was delighted to see his dear little friend again, and so was button-bright, and now that they were reunited--for a time, at least--they paid little heed to the sour looks and taunting remarks of the ugly blueskins and ate heartily of the dinner, which was really very good. the meal was no sooner over than ghip-ghisizzle was summoned to the chamber of his majesty the boolooroo, but before he went away, he took trot and cap'n bill and button-bright into a small room and advised them to stay there until he returned so that the servants and soldiers would not molest them. "my people seem to dislike strangers," said the majordomo thoughtfully, "and that surprises me because you are the first strangers they have ever seen. i think they imagine you will become favorites of the boolooroo and of the princesses, and that is why they are jealous and hate you." "they needn't worry 'bout that," replied trot. "the snubnoses hate me worse than the people do." "i can't imagine a bootblue becoming a royal favorite," grumbled button-bright. "or a necktie mixer," added cap'n bill. "you don't mix neckties; you're a nectar mixer," said ghip-ghisizzle correcting the sailor. "i'll not be gone long, for i'm no favorite of the boolooroo, either, so please stay quietly in this room until my return." the majordomo found the boolooroo in a bad temper. he had finished his dinner, where his six daughters had bitterly denounced trot all through the meal and implored their father to invent some new and terrible punishment for her. also, his wife, the queen, had made him angry by begging for gold to buy ribbons with. then, when he had retired to his own private room, he decided to send for the umbrella he had stolen from button-bright and test its magic powers. but the umbrella, in his hands, proved just as common as any other umbrella might be. he opened it and closed it, and turned it this way and that, commanding it to do all sorts of things, but of course the magic umbrella would obey no one but a member of the family that rightfully owned it. at last the boolooroo threw it down and stamped upon it and then kicked it into a corner, where it rolled underneath a cabinet. then he sent for ghip-ghisizzle. "do you know how to work that magic umbrella?" he asked the majordomo. "no, your majesty, i do not," was the reply. "well, find out. make the whiteskins tell you so that i can use it for my own amusement." "i'll do my best, your majesty," said ghip-ghisizzle. "you'll do more than that, or i'll have you patched!" roared the angry boolooroo. "and don't waste any time, either, for as soon as we find out the secret of the umbrella i'm going to have the three strangers marched through the arch of phinis, and that will be the end of them." "you can't do that, your majesty," said the majordomo. "why can't i?" "they haven't lived six hundred years yet, and only those who have lived that length of time are allowed to march through the arch of phinis into the great blue grotto." the king looked at him with a sneer. "has anyone ever come out of that arch alive?" he asked. "no," said ghip-ghisizzle, "but no one has ever gone into the blue grotto until his allotted time was up." "well, i'm going to try the experiment," declared the boolooroo. "i shall march these three strangers through the arch, and if by chance they come out alive, i'll do a new sort of patching--i'll chop off their heads and mix 'em up, putting the wrong head on each of 'em. ha, ha! won't it be funny to see the old moonface's head on the little girl? ho, ho! i really hope they'll come out of the great blue grotto alive!" "i also hope they will," replied ghip-ghisizzle. "then i'll bet you four buttonholes they don't. i've a suspicion that once they enter the great blue grotto that's the last of them." ghip-ghisizzle went away quite sad and unhappy. he did not approve the way the strangers were being treated and thought it was wicked and cruel to try to destroy them. during his absence, the prisoners had been talking together very earnestly. "we must get away from here somehow 'r other," said cap'n bill, "but o' course we can't stir a step without the magic umbrel." "no, i must surely manage to get my umbrella first," said button-bright. "do it quick, then," urged trot, "for i can't stand those snubnoses much longer." "i'll do it tonight," said the boy. "the sooner, the better, my lad," remarked the sailor, "but seein' as the blue boolooroo has locked it up in his treasure chamber, it mayn't be easy to get hold of." "no, it won't be easy," button-bright admitted. "but it has to be done, cap'n bill, and there's no use waiting any longer. no one here likes us, and in a few days they may make an end of us." "oh, button-bright! there's a blue wolf in the treasure chamber!" exclaimed trot. "yes, i know." "an' a patched man on guard outside," cap'n bill reminded him. "i know," repeated button-bright. "and the key's in the king's own pocket," added trot despairingly. the boy nodded. he didn't say how he would overcome all these difficulties, so the little girl feared they would never see the magic umbrella again. but their present position was a very serious one, and even cap'n bill dared not advise button-bright to give up the desperate attempt. when ghip-ghisizzle returned, he said, "you must be very careful not to anger the boolooroo, or he may do you a mischief. i think the little girl had better keep away from the princesses for tonight unless they demand her presence. the boy must go for the king's shoes and blue them and polish them and then take them back to the royal bedchamber. cap'n bill won't have anything to do, for i've ordered tiggle to mix the nectar." "thank 'e, friend sizzle," said cap'n bill. "now follow me, and i will take you to your rooms." he led them to the rear of the palace, where he gave them three small rooms on the ground floor, each having a bed in it. cap'n bill's room had a small door leading out into the street of the city, but ghip ghisizzle advised him to keep this door locked, as the city people would be sure to hurt the strangers if they had the chance to attack them. "you're safer in the palace than anywhere else," said the majordomo, "for there is no way you can escape from the island, and here the servants and soldiers dare not injure you for fear of the boolooroo." he placed trot and her six pets--which followed her wherever she went--in one room, and cap'n bill in another, and took button-bright away with him to show the boy the way to the king's bedchamber. as they proceeded, they passed many rooms with closed doors, and before one of these a patched blueskin was pacing up and down in a tired and sleepy way. it was jimfred jinksjones, the double of the fredjim jonesjinks they had talked with in the servants' hall, and he bowed low before the majordomo. "this is the king's new bootblue, a stranger who has lately arrived here," said ghip-ghisizzle, introducing the boy to the patched man. "i'm sorry for him," muttered jimfred. "he's a queer-looking chap, with his pale yellow skin, and i imagine our cruel boolooroo is likely to patch him before long, as he did me--i mean us." "no he won't," said button-bright positively. "the boolooroo's afraid of me." "oh, that's different," said jimfred. "you're the first person i ever knew that could scare our boolooroo." they passed on, and ghip-ghisizzle whispered, "that is the royal treasure chamber." button-bright nodded. he had marked the place well so he couldn't miss it when he wanted to find it again. when they came to the king's apartments there was another guard before the door, this time a long-necked soldier with a terrible scowl. "this slave is the royal bootblue," said ghip-ghisizzle to the guard. "you will allow him to pass into his majesty's chamber to get the royal shoes and to return them when they are blued." "all right," answered the guard. "our boolooroo is in an ugly mood tonight. it will go hard with this little short-necked creature if he doesn't polish the shoes properly." then ghip-ghisizzle left button-bright and went away, and the boy passed through several rooms to the royal bedchamber, where his majesty sat undressing. "hi, there! what are you doing here?" he roared as he saw button-bright. "i've come for the shoes," said the boy. the king threw them at his head, aiming carefully, but button-bright dodged the missiles, and one smashed a mirror while the other shattered a vase on a small table. his majesty looked around for something else to throw, but the boy seized the shoes and ran away, returning to his own room. while he polished the shoes he told his plans to cap'n bill and trot and asked them to be ready to fly with him as soon as he returned with the magic umbrella. all they need to do was to step out into the street, through the door of cap'n bill's room, and open the umbrella. fortunately, the seats and the lunch-basket were still attached to the handle--or so they thought--and there would be nothing to prevent their quickly starting on the journey home. they waited a long time, however, to give the boolooroo time to get to sleep, so it was after midnight when button-bright finally took the shoes in his hand and started for the royal bedchamber. he passed the guard of the royal treasury and fredjim nodded good-naturedly to the boy. but the sleepy guard before the king's apartments was cross and surly. "what are you doing here at this hour?" he demanded. "i'm returning his majesty's shoes," said button-bright. "go back and wait till morning," commanded the guard. "if you prevent me from obeying the boolooroo's orders," returned the boy quietly, "he will probably have you patched." this threat frightened the long-necked guard, who did not know what orders the boolooroo had given his royal bootblue. "go in, then," said he, "but if you make a noise and waken his majesty, the chances are you'll get yourself patched." "i'll be quiet," promised the boy. indeed, button-bright had no desire to waken the boolooroo, whom he found snoring lustily with the curtains of his high-posted bed drawn tightly around him. the boy had taken off his own shoes after he passed the guard and now he tiptoed carefully into the room, set down the royal shoes very gently and then crept to the chair where his majesty's clothes were piled. scarcely daring to breathe for fear of awakening the terrible monarch, the boy searched in the royal pockets until he found a blue-gold key attached to a blue-gold chain. at once he decided this must be the key to the treasure chamber, but in order to make sure he searched in every other pocket--without finding another key. then button-bright crept softly out of the room again, and in one of the outer rooms he sat down near a big cabinet and put on his shoes. poor button-bright did not know that lying disregarded beneath that very cabinet at his side was the precious umbrella he was seeking, or that he was undertaking a desperate adventure all for nothing. he passed the long-necked guard again, finding the man half asleep, and then made his way to the treasure chamber. facing jimfred, he said to the patched man in a serious tone, "his majesty commands you to go at once to the corridor leading to the apartments of the six snubnosed princesses and to guard the entrance until morning. you are to permit no one to enter or leave the apartments." "but--good gracious!" exclaimed the surprised jimfred. "who will guard the treasure chamber?" "i am to take your place," said button-bright. "oh, very well," replied jimfred. "this is a queer freak for our boolooroo to indulge in, but he is always doing something absurd. you're not much of a guard, seems to me, but if anyone tries to rob the treasure chamber you must ring this big gong, which will alarm the whole palace and bring the soldiers to your assistance. do you understand?" "yes," said button-bright. then fredjim stalked away to the other side of the palace to guard the princesses, and button-bright was left alone with the key to the treasure chamber in his hand. but he had not forgotten that the ferocious blue wolf was guarding the interior of the chamber, so he searched in some of the rooms until he found a sofa-pillow, which he put under his arm and then returned to the corridor. he placed the key in the lock, and the bolt turned with a sharp click. button-bright did not hesitate. he was afraid, to be sure, and his heart was beating fast with the excitement of the moment, but he knew he must regain the magic umbrella if he would save his comrades and himself from destruction, for without it they could never return to the earth. so he summoned up his best courage, opened the door, stepped quickly inside, and closed the door after him. button-bright encounters the blue wolf chapter 11 a low, fierce growl greeted him. the treasure chamber was pretty dark, although the moonlight came in through some of the windows, but the boy had brought with him the low brass lamp that lighted the corridor, and this he set upon a table beside the door before he took time to look around him. the treasure chamber was heaped and crowded with all the riches the boolooroo had accumulated during his reign of two or three hundred years. piles of gold and jewels were on all sides, and precious ornaments and splendid cloths, rare pieces of carved furniture, vases, bric-a-brac and the like, were strewn about the room in astonishing profusion. just at the boy's feet crouched a monstrous animal of most fearful aspect. he knew at a glance it was the terrible blue wolf, and the sight of the beast sent a shiver through him. the blue wolf's head was fully as big as that of a lion, and its wide jaws were armed with rows of long, pointed teeth. his shoulders and front legs were huge and powerful, but the rest of the wolf's body dwindled away until at the tail it was no bigger than a dog. the jaws were therefore the dangerous part of the creature, and its small blue eyes flashed wickedly at the intruder. just as the boy made his first step forward, the blue wolf sprang upon him with its enormous jaws stretched wide open. button-bright jammed the sofa-pillow into the brute's mouth and crowded it in as hard as he could. the terrible teeth came together and buried themselves in the pillow, and then mr. wolf found he could not pull them out again--because his mouth was stuffed full. he could not even growl or yelp, but rolled upon the floor trying in vain to release himself from the conquering pillow. button-bright paid no further attention to the helpless animal, but caught up the blue-brass lamp and began a search for his umbrella. of course he could not find it, as it was not there. he came across a small book bound in light-blue leather which lay upon an exquisitely carved center-table. it was named, in dark-blue letters stamped on the leather, "the royal record book," and remembering ghip-ghisizzle longed to possess this book, button-bright hastily concealed it inside his blouse. then he renewed his search for the umbrella, but it was quite in vain. he hunted in every crack and corner, bumbling the treasures here and there in the quest, but at last he became positive that the magic umbrella was not there. the boy was bitterly disappointed and did not know what to do next. but he noticed that the blue wolf had finally seized an edge of the sofa-pillow in its sharp claws and was struggling to pull the thing out of his mouth; so, there being no object in his remaining longer in the room where he might have to fight the wolf again, button-bright went out and locked the door behind him. while he stood in the corridor wondering what to do next, a sudden shouting reached his ears. it was the voice of the boolooroo, saying "my key, my key! who has stolen my golden key?" and then there followed shouts of soldiers and guards and servants, and the rapid pattering of feet was heard throughout the palace. button-bright took to his heels and ran along the passages until he came to cap'n bill's room, where the sailorman and trot were anxiously awaiting him. "quick!" cried the boy. "we must escape from here at once, or we will be caught and patched." "where's the umbrel?" asked cap'n bill. "i don't know. i can't find it. but all the palace is aroused, and the boolooroo is furious. come, let's get away at once!" "where'll we go?" inquired trot. "we must make for the open country and hide in the fog bank or in the arch of phinis," replied the boy. they did not stop to argue any longer, but all three stepped out of the little door into the street, where they first clasped hands so they would not get separated in the dark, and then ran as swiftly as they could down the street, which was deserted at this hour by the citizens. they could not go very fast because the sailorman's wooden leg was awkward to run with and held them back, but cap'n bill hobbled quicker than he had ever hobbled before in all his life, and they really made pretty good progress. they met no one on the streets and continued their flight until at last they came to the city wall, which had a blue-iron gate in it. here was a blueskin guard, who had been peacefully slumbering when aroused by the footsteps of the fugitives. "halt!" cried the guard fiercely. cap'n bill halted long enough to grab the man around his long neck with one hand and around his long leg with the other hand. then he raised the blueskin in the air and threw him far over the wall. a moment later they had unfastened the gate and fled into the open country, where they headed toward the low mountain whose outlines were plainly visible in the moonlight. the guard was now howling and crying for help. in the city were answering shouts. a hue and cry came from every direction, reaching as far as the palace. lights began to twinkle everywhere in the streets, and the blue city hummed like a beehive filled with angry bees. "it won't do for us to get caught now," panted cap'n bill as they ran along. "i'm more afeared o' them blue citizens ner i am 'o the blue boolooroo. they'd tear us to pieces if they could." sky island was not a very big place, especially the blue part of it, and our friends were now very close to the low mountain. presently they paused before a grim archway of blue marble, above which was carved the one word, "phinis." the interior seemed dark and terrible as they stopped to regard it as a possible place of refuge. "don't like that place, cap'n," whispered trot. "no more do i, mate," he answered. "i think i'd rather take a chance on the fog bank," said button-bright. just then they were all startled by a swift flapping of wings, and a voice cried in shrill tones, "where are you, trot? as like as not i've been forgot!" cap'n bill jumped this way and button-bright that, and then there alighted on trot's shoulder the blue parrot that had been the pet of the princess cerulia. said the bird, "gee! i've flown here all alone. it's pretty far, but here we are!" and then he barked like a dog and chuckled with glee at having found his little friend. in escaping the palace, trot had been obliged to leave all the pets behind her, but it seemed that the parrot had found some way to get free and follow her. they were all astonished to hear the bird talk--and in poetry, too--but cap'n bill told trot that some parrots he had known had possessed a pretty fair gift of language, and he added that this blue one seemed an unusually bright bird. "as fer po'try," said he, "that's as how you look at po'try. rhymes come from your head, but real po'try from your heart, an' whether the blue parrot has a heart or not, he's sure got a head." having decided not to venture into the arch of phinis, they again started on, this time across the country straight toward the fog bank, which hung like a blue-grey cloud directly across the center of the island. they knew they were being followed by bands of the blueskins, for they could hear the shouts of their pursuers growing louder and louder every minute, since their long legs covered the ground more quickly than our friends could possibly go. had the journey been much farther, the fugitives would have been overtaken, but when the leaders of the pursuing blueskins were only a few yards behind them, they reached the edge of the fog bank and without hesitation plunged into its thick mist, which instantly hid them from view. the blueskins fell back, horrified at the mad act of the strangers. to them the fog bank was the most dreadful thing in existence, and no blueskin had ever ventured within it even for a moment. "that's the end of those short-necked yellowskins," said one, shaking his head. "we may as well go back and report the matter to the boolooroo." through the fog bank chapter 12 it was rather moist in the fog bank. "seems like a reg'lar drizzle," said trot. "i'll be soaked through in a minute." she had been given a costume of blue silk in exchange for her own dress, and the silk was so thin that the moisture easily wetted it. "never mind," said cap'n bill. "when it's a case of life 'n' death, clo's don't count for much. i'm sort o' drippy myself." cried the parrot, fluttering his feathers to try to keep them from sticking together, "floods and gushes fill our path- this is not my day for a bath! shut if off, or fear my wrath." "we can't," laughed trot. "we'll jus' have to stick it out till we get to the other side." "had we better go to the other side?" asked button-bright anxiously. "why not?" returned cap'n bill. "the other side's the only safe side for us." "we don't know that, sir," said the boy. "ghip-ghisizzle said it was a terrible country." "i don't believe it," retorted the sailor stoutly. "sizzle's never been there, an' he knows nothing about it. 'the sunset country' sounds sort o' good to me." "but how'll we ever manage to get there?" inquired trot. "aren't we already lost in this fog?" "not yet," said cap'n bill. "i've kep' my face turned straight ahead ever since we climbed inter this bank o' wetness. if we don't get twisted any, we'll go straight through to the other side." it was no darker in the fog bank than it had been in the blue country. they could see dimly the mass of fog, which seemed to cling to them, and when they looked down, they discovered that they were walking upon white pebbles that were slightly tinged with the blue color of the sky. gradually this blue became fainter until, as they progressed, everything became a dull gray. "i wonder how far it is to the other side," remarked trot wearily. "we can't say till we get there, mate," answered the sailor in a cheerful voice. cap'n bill had a way of growing more and more cheerful when danger threatened. "never mind," said the girl. "i'm as wet as a dishrag now, and i'll never get any wetter." "wet, wet, wet! it's awful wet, you bet!" moaned the parrot on her shoulder. "i'm a fish-pond, i'm a well; i'm a clam without a shell!" "can't you dry up?" asked cap'n bill. "not this evening, thank you, sir; to talk and grumble i prefer," replied the parrot dolefully. they walked along more slowly now, still keeping hold of hands, for although they were anxious to get through the fog bank, they were tired with the long run across the country and with their day's adventures. they had no sleep and it was a long time past midnight. "look out!" cried the parrot sharply; and they all halted to find a monstrous frog obstructing their path. cap'n bill thought it was as big as a whale, and as it squatted on the gray pebbles, its eyes were on a level with those of the old sailor. "ker-chug, herk-choo!" grunted the frog. "what in the sky is this crowd?" "w-we're strangers," stammered trot, "an' we're tryin' to 'scape from the blueskins an' get into the pink country." "i don't blame you," said the frog in a friendly tone. "i hate those blueskins. the pinkies, however, are very decent neighbors." "oh, i'm glad to hear that!" cried button-bright. "can you tell us, mister--mistress--good mr. frog--eh, eh, your royal highness, if we're on the right road to the pink country?" the frog seemed to laugh, for he gurgled in his throat in a very funny way. "i'm no royal highness," he said. "i'm just a common frog, and a little wee tiny frog, too. but i hope to grow in time. this fog bank is the paradise of frogs, and our king is about ten times as big as i am." "then he's a big 'un, an' no mistake," admitted cap'n bill. "i'm glad you like your country, but it's a mite too damp for us, an' we'd be glad to get out of it." "follow me," said the frog. "i'll lead you to the border. it's only about six jumps." he turned around, made a mighty leap and disappeared in the gray mist. our friends looked at one another in bewilderment. "don't see how we can foller that lead," remarked cap'n bill, "but we may as well start in the same direction." "brooks and creeks, how it leaks!" muttered the parrot. "how can we jog to a frog in the fog?" the big frog seemed to understand their difficulty, for he kept making noises in his throat to guide them to where he had leaped. when at last they came up to him, he made a second jump--out of sight, as before--and when they attempted to follow, they found a huge lizard lying across the path. cap'n bill thought it must be a giant alligator at first, it was so big, but he looked at them sleepily and did not seem at all dangerous. "o, liz--you puffy liz--get out of our way and mind your biz," cried the parrot. "creep-a-mousie, crawl-a-mousie, please move on! we can't move a step till you are gone." "don't disturb me," said the lizard. "i'm dreaming about parsnips. did you ever taste a parsnip?" "we're in a hurry, if it's the same to you, sir," said cap'n bill politely. "then climb over me or go around, i don't care which," murmured the lizard. "when they're little, they're juicy; when they're big, there's more of 'em; but either way there's nothing so delicious as a parsnip. there are none here in the fog bank, so the best i can do is dream of them. oh, parsnips, par-snips, p-a-r-snips!" he closed his eyes sleepily and resumed his dreams. walking around the lizard, they resumed their journey and soon came to the frog, being guided by its grunts and croaks. then off it went again, its tremendous leap carrying it far into the fog. suddenly, cap'n bill tripped and would have fallen flat had not trot and button-bright held him up. then he saw that he had stumbled over the claw of a gigantic land-crab, which lay sprawled out upon the pebbly bottom. "oh, beg parding, i'm sure!" exclaimed cap'n bill, backing away. "don't mention it," replied the crab in a tired tone. "you did not disturb me, so there is no harm done." "we didn't know you were here," explained trot. "probably not," said the crab. "it's no place for me, anyhow, for i belong in the constellations, you know, with taurus and gemini and the other fellows. but i had the misfortune to tumble out of the zodiac some time ago. my name is cancer, but i'm not a disease. those who examine the heavens in these days, alas! can find no cancer there." "yes we can, sir, mister cancer!" said the parrot with a chuckle. "once," remarked cap'n bill, "i sawr a picter of you in an almanac." "ah, the almanacs always did us full justice," the crab replied, "but i'm told they're not fashionable now." "if you don't mind, we'd like to pass on," said button-bright. "no, i don't mind, but be careful not to step on my legs. they're rheumatic, it's so moist here." they climbed over some of the huge legs and walked around others. soon they had left the creature far behind. "aren't you rather slow?" asked the frog when once more they came up to him. "it isn't that," said trot. "you are rather swift, i guess." the frog chuckled and leaped again. they noticed that the fog had caught a soft rose tint and was lighter and less dense than before, for which reason the sailor remarked that they must be getting near to the pink country. on this jump they saw nothing but a monstrous turtle, which lay asleep with its head and legs drawn into its shell. it was not in their way, so they hurried on and rejoined the frog, which said to them, "i'm sorry, but i'm due at the king's court in a few minutes, and i can't wait for your short, weak legs to make the journey to the pink country. but if you will climb upon my back, i think i can carry you to the border in one more leap." "i'm tired," said trot, "an' this awful fog's beginnin' to choke me. let's ride on the frog, cap'n." "right you are, mate," he replied, and although he shook a bit with fear, the old man at once began to climb to the frog's back. trot seated herself on one side of him and button-bright on the other, and the sailor put his arms around them both to hold them tight together. "are you ready?" asked the frog. "ding-dong!" cried the parrot. "all aboard, let 'er go! jump the best jump that you know." "don't--don't! jump sort o' easy, please," begged cap'n bill. but the frog was unable to obey his request. its powerful hind legs straightened like steel springs and shot the big body, with its passengers, through the fog like an arrow launched from a bow. they gasped for breath and tried to hang on, and then suddenly the frog landed just at the edge of the fog bank, stopping so abruptly that his three riders left his back and shot far ahead of him. they felt the fog melt away and found themselves bathed in glorious rays of sunshine, but they had no time to consider this change because they were still shooting through the air, and presently--before they could think of anything at all--all three were rolling heels over head on the soft grass of a meadow. the pink country chapter 13 when the travelers could collect their senses and sit up, they stared about them in bewilderment, for the transition from the sticky, damp fog to this brilliant scene was so abrupt as to daze them at first. it was a pink country indeed. the grass was a soft pink, the trees were pink, all the fences and buildings which they saw in the near distance were pink--even the gravel in the pretty paths was pink. many shades of color were there, of course, grading from a faint blush rose to deep pink verging on red, but no other color was visible. in the sky hung a pink glow, with rosy clouds floating here and there, and the sun was not silvery white, as we see it from the earth, but a distinct pink. the sun was high in the sky just now, which proved the adventurers had been a long time in passing through the fog bank. but all of them were wonderfully relieved to reach this beautiful country in safety, for aside from the danger that threatened them in the blue country, the other side of the island was very depressing. here the scene that confronted them was pretty and homelike, except for the prevailing color and the fact that all the buildings were round, without a single corner or angle. half a mile distant was a large city, its pink tintings glistening bravely in the pink sunshine, while hundreds of pink banners floated from its numerous domes. the country between the fog bank and the city was like a vast garden, very carefully kept and as neat as wax. the parrot was fluttering its wings and pruning its feathers to remove the wet of the fog. trot and button-bright and cap'n bill were all soaked to the skin and chilled through, but as they sat upon the pink grass they felt the rays of the sun sending them warmth and rapidly drying their clothes; so, being tired out, they laid themselves comfortably down and first one and then another fell cozily asleep. it was the parrot that aroused them. "look out--look out- there's folks about!" it screamed. "the apple-dumplings, fat and pink, will be here quicker than a wink!" trot stared up in alarm and rubbed her eyes; cap'n bill rolled over and blinked, hardly remembering where he was; button-bright was on his feet in an instant. advancing toward them were four of the natives of the pink country. two were men and two were women, and their appearance was in sharp contrast to that of the blueskins. for the pinkies were round and chubby--almost like "apple-dumplings," as the parrot called them--and they were not very tall, the highest of the men being no taller than trot or button-bright. they all had short necks and legs, pink hair and eyes, rosy cheeks and pink complexions, and their faces were good-natured and jolly in expression. the men wore picturesque pink clothing and round hats with pink feathers in them, but the apparel of the women was still more gorgeous and striking. their dresses consisted of layer after layer of gauzy tuck and ruffles and laces, caught here and there with bows of dainty ribbon. the skirts--which of course were of many shades of pink--were so fluffy and light that they stuck out from the fat bodies of the pinkie women like the skirts of ballet-dancers, displaying their chubby pink ankles and pink kid shoes. they wore rings and necklaces and bracelets and brooches of rose-gold set with pink gems, and all four of the new arrivals, both men and women, carried sharp-pointed sticks made of rosewood for weapons. they halted a little way from our adventurers, and one of the women muttered in a horrified voice, "blueskins!" "guess again! the more you guess i rather think you'll know the less," retorted the parrot, and then he added grumblingly in trot's ear, "blue feathers don't make bluebirds." "really," said the girl, standing up and bowing respectfully to the pinkies, "we are not blueskins, although we are wearing the blue uniforms of the boolooroo and have just escaped from the blue country. if you will look closely, you will see that our skins are white." "there is some truth in what she says," remarked one of the men thoughtfully. "their skins are not blue, but neither are they white. to be exact, i should call the skin of the girl and that of the boy a muddy pink, rather faded, while the skin of the gigantic monster with them is an unpleasant brown." cap'n bill looked cross for a minute, for he did not like to be called a "gigantic monster," although he realized he was much larger than the pink people. "what country did you come from" asked the woman who had first spoken. "from the earth," replied button-bright. "the earth! the earth!" they repeated. "that is a country we have never heard of. where is it located?" "why, down below somewhere," said the boy, who did now know in which direction the earth lay. "it isn't just one country, but a good many countries." "we have three countries in sky island," returned the woman. "they are the blue country, the fog country and the pink country. but of course this end of the island is the most important." "how came you in the blue country, from whence you say you escaped?" asked the man. "we flew there by means of a magic umbrella," explained button-bright, "but the wicked boolooroo stole it from us." "stole it! how dreadful," they all cried in a chorus. "and they made us slaves," said trot. "an' wanted fer to patch us," added cap'n bill indignantly. "so we ran away and passed through the fog bank and came here," said button-bright. the pinkies turned away and conversed together in low tones. then one of the women came forward and addressed the strangers. "your story is the strangest we have ever heard," said she, "and your presence here is still more strange and astonishing. so we have decided to take you to tourmaline and let her decide what shall be your fate." "who is tourmaline?" inquired trot doubtfully, for she didn't like the idea of being "taken" to anyone. "the queen of the pinkies. she is the sole ruler of our country, so the word of tourmaline is the law of the land." "seems to me we've had 'bout enough of kings an' queens," remarked cap'n bill. "can't we shy your tut-tor-mar-line--or whatever you call her--in some way an' deal with you direct?" "no. until we prove your truth and honor we must regard you as enemies of our race. if you had a magic umbrella, you may be magicians and sorcerers come here to deceive us and perhaps betray us to our natural enemies, the blueskins." "mud and bricks, fiddlesticks! we don't play such nasty tricks," yelled the parrot angrily, and this caused the pinkies to shrink back in alarm, for they had never seen a parrot before. "surely this is magic!" declared one of the men. "no bird can talk unless inspired by witchcraft." "oh yes, parrots can," said trot. but this incident had determined the pinkies to consider our friends prisoners and to take them immediately before their queen. "must we fight you?" asked the woman. "or will you come with us peaceably?" "we'll go peaceable," answered cap'n bill. "you're a-makin' a sad mistake, for we're as harmless as doves; but seein' as you're suspicious, we'd better have it out with your queen first as last." their clothing was quite dry by this time, although much wrinkled and discolored by the penetrating fog, so at once they prepared to follow the pinkies. the two men walked on either side of them, holding the pointed sticks ready to jab them if they attempted to escape, and the two women followed in the rear, also armed with sharp sticks. so the procession moved along the pretty roadways to the city, which they soon reached. there was a strong, high wall of pink marble around it, and they passed through a gate made of pink metal bars and found themselves in a most delightful and picturesque town. the houses were big and substantial, all round in shape, with domed roofs and circular windows and doorways. in all the place there was but one street--a circular one that started at the gate and wound like a corkscrew toward the center of the city. it was paved with pink marble, and between the street and the houses that lined both sides of it were gardens filled with pink flowers and pink grass lawns, which were shaded by pink trees and shrubbery. as the queen lived in the very center of the city, the captives were obliged to parade the entire length of this street, and that gave all the pink citizens a chance to have a good look at the strangers. the pinkies were every one short and fat and gorgeously dressed in pink attire, and their faces indicated that they were contented and happy. they were much surprised at cap'n bill's great size and wooden leg--two very unusual things in their experience--and the old sailor frightened more than one pink boy and girl and sent them scampering into the houses, where they viewed the passing procession from behind the window shutters in comparative safety. as for the grown people, many of them got out their sharp-pointed sticks to use as weapons in case the strangers attacked them or broke away from their guards. a few, more bold than the others, followed on at the tail of the procession, and so presently they all reached an open, circular place in the exact center of the pink city. tourmaline the poverty queen chapter 14 the open space which they entered was paved with pink marble, and around it were two rows of large, pink statues, at least life-size and beautifully sculptured. all were set upon nicely carved pink pedestals. they were, of course, statues of pinky men and women, and all had bands of pink metal around their foreheads, in the center of each band being a glistening pink jewel. about the middle of the open space inside the statues, which appeared to be the public meeting place of the pinkies, was a small, low house, domed like all the other houses but built of a coarse pink stone instead of the fine marble to be seen everywhere else. it had no ornamentation, being exceedingly plain in appearance. no banners floated from it; no flowers grew near it. "here," said one of their guides as the procession halted before the little stone building, "is the palace of tourmaline, who is our queen." "what, that little cabin?" exclaimed trot. "of course. did you suppose a palace would be like one of our handsome residences?" asked the woman, evidently surprised. "i thought it would be better," said the girl. "all the palaces i've seen were splendid." "a splendid palace!" exclaimed one of the pinkies, and then they looked at one another in amazement and seemed to doubt that their ears had heard aright. "these intruders are very peculiar people," remarked a man in the crowd. "they seem very ignorant, poor things!" said another in reply. "come!" commanded the woman who led the party. "you three must follow me to the presence of tourmaline. the people must wait outside, for there is no room for them in the palace." so they followed her through the low archway, and in a room beyond, very simply furnished, sat a young girl engaged in darning a pair of pink stockings. she was a beautiful girl of about seventeen years of age, not fat like all the rest of the pinkies but slender and well formed according to our own ideas of beauty. her complexion was not a decided pink, but a soft, rosy tint not much deeper than that of trot's skin. instead of a silken gown furbelowed like all the others they had seen women wear in this land, tourmaline was dressed in a severely plain robe of coarse pink cloth much resembling bedticking. across her brow, however, was a band of rose gold, in the center of which was set a luminous pink jewel which gleamed more brilliantly than a diamond. it was her badge of office and seemed very incongruous when compared with her poor rainment and simple surroundings. as they entered, the girl sighed and laid down her work. her expression was patient and resigned as she faced her audience. "what is it, coralie?" she asked the woman. "here are three strange people, tourmaline," was the reply, "who say they have entered our country through the fog bank. they tell a queer story of an escape from the blueskins, so i decided to bring them to you, that you may determine their fate." the queen gazed upon our friends with evident interest. she smiled--a little sadly--at trot, seemed to approve button-bright's open, frank face, and was quite surprised because cap'n bill was so much bigger than her own people. "are you a giant?" she asked the sailor in a soft, sweet voice. "no, your majesty," he replied, "i'm only--" "majesty!" she exclaimed, flushing a deeper pink. "are you addressing that word to me?" "o' course, ma'am," answered cap'n bill. "i'm told that's the proper way to speak to a queen." "perhaps you are trying to ridicule me," she continued, regarding the sailor's face closely. "there is nothing majestic about me, as you know very well. coralie, do you consider 'majesty' a proper word to use when addressing a queen?" she added, appealing to the pinky woman. "by no means," was the prompt reply. "what shall i call her, then?" inquired cap'n bill. "just tourmaline. that is her name, and it is sufficient," said the woman. "the ruler of a country ought to be treated with great respec'," declared trot a little indignantly, for she thought the pretty little queen was not being properly deferred to. "why?" asked tourmaline curiously. "because the ruler is the mos' 'risticratic person in any land," explained the little girl. "even in america ever'body bows low to our president, an' the blueskins are so 'fraid o' their boolooroo that they tremble whenever they go near him." "but surely that is all wrong," said tourmaline gravely. "the ruler is appointed to protect and serve the people, and here in the pink country i have the full power to carry out the laws. i even decree death when such a punishment is merited. therefore i am a mere agent to direct the laws, which are the will of the people, and am only a public servant obliged constantly to guard the welfare of my subjects." "in that case," said button-bright, "you're entitled to the best there is to pay for your trouble. a powerful ruler ought to be rich and to live in a splendid palace. your folks ought to treat you with great respect, as trot says." "oh no," responded tourmaline quickly. "that would indeed be very wrong. too much should never be given to anyone. if, with my great power, conferred upon me by the people, i also possessed great wealth, i might be tempted to be cruel and overbearing. in that case my subjects would justly grow envious of my superior station. if i lived as luxuriously as my people do and had servants and costly gowns, the good pinkies would say that their queen had more than they themselves, and it would be true. no, our way is best. the ruler, be it king or queen, has absolute power to rule, but no riches, no high station, no false adulation. the people have the wealth and honor, for it is their due. the queen has nothing but the power to execute the laws, to adjust grievances and to compel order." "what pays you, then, for all your bother?" asked trot. "i have one great privilege. after my death a pink marble statue of me will be set up in the grand court, with the statues of the other kings and queens who have ruled this land, and all the pinkies in ages to come will then honor me as having been a just and upright queen. that is my reward." "i'm sorry for you, ma'am," said cap'n bill. "your pay for bein' a queen is sort o' like a life-insurance. if don't come due till after you're dead, an' then you can't get much fun out o' it." "i did not choose to be the queen," answered tourmaline simply. "a misfortune of birth placed me here, and i cannot escape my fate. it is much more desirable to be a private citizen, happy and carefree. but we have talked long enough of myself. tell me who you are, and why you have come here." between them they told the story of how the magic umbrella had taken them to sky island, which they did not know when they started was anywhere in existence. button-bright told this, and then trot related their adventures among the blueskins and how the boolooroo had stolen the umbrella and prevented them from going home again. the parrot on her shoulder kept interrupting her continually, for the mention of the boolooroo seemed to make the bird frantic with rage. "naughty, naughty boolooroo! he's the worst i ever knew!" the parrot repeated over and over again. cap'n bill finished the story by telling of their escape through the fog bank. "we didn't know what your pink country was like, o' course," he said, "but we knew it couldn't be worse than the blue country, an' we didn't take any stock in their stories that the fog bank would be the death o' us." "pretty wet! pretty wet was the journey, you can bet!" declared the parrot in conclusion. "yes, it was wet an' sticky, all right," agreed the sailor, "but the big frog helped us an' we got through all right." "but what can you do here?" asked tourmaline. "you are not like my people, the pinkies, and there is no place for you in our country." "that's true enough," said cap'n bill, "but we had to go somewhere, an' this was the likeliest place we could think of. your sky island ain't very big, so when we couldn't stay in the blue country, where ever'body hated us, or in the fog bank, which ain't healthy an' is too wet for humans to live in for long, we nat'rally were forced to enter the pink country, where we expected to find nice people." "we are nice," said tourmaline, "but it is our country, not yours, and we have no place here for strangers. in all our history you are the first people from outside our borders who have ever stepped a foot in our land. we do not hate you, as you say the blueskins do, nor are we savage or cruel, but we do not want you here, and i am really puzzled what to do with you." "isn't there a law to cover this case?" asked coralie. "i do not remember any such law," replied the queen, "but i will search in the great book and see if i can find anything that refers to strange people entering our land." "if not," said the woman, "you must make a law. it is your duty." "i know," answered tourmaline, "but i hope such a responsibility will not fall upon my shoulders. these poor strangers are in a very uncomfortable position, and i wish i could help them to get back to their own country." "thank you," said trot. "we wish so, too. haven't you any fairies here?" "oh, there are fairies, of course, as there are everywhere," answered tourmaline, "but none that we can call to our assistance or command to do our bidding." "how about witches?" asked button-bright. "i know of one witch," said tourmaline thoughtfully, "but she is not very obliging. she says it makes her head ache to perform witchcraft, and so she seldom indulges in it. but if there is no other way, i may be obliged to call upon rosalie for help. i'll look in the great book first. meantime, you will go home with coralie, who will feed you and give you entertainment. tomorrow morning come to me again and then i will decree your fate." the little queen then picked up her stocking and began to darn the holes in it, and coralie, without any formal parting, led the strangers from the miserable palace. the sunrise tribe and the sunset tribe chapter 15 although trot and her comrades were still prisoners, they were far more comfortable than they had been in the blue country. coralie took them to her own home, where she lived in great luxury, being one of the prominent women of the pinkies. in this country the women seemed fully as important as the men, and instead of being coddled and petted, they performed their share of the work, both in public and private affairs, and were expected to fight in the wars exactly as the men did. our friends learned considerable about the pinkies during that afternoon and evening, for their hostess proved kind and agreeable and frankly answered all their questions. although this half of sky island was no larger than the blue country, being no more than two miles square, it had several hundred inhabitants. these were divided into two tribes, which were called the sunrise tribe and the sunset tribe. the sunrise tribe lived in the eastern half of the pink country and the sunset tribe in the west half, and there was great rivalry between them, and sometimes war. it was all a question of social importance. the sunrise tribe claimed that every day the sun greeted them first of all, which proved they were the most important; but on the other hand, the sunset tribe claimed that the sun always deserted the other tribe and came to them, which was evidence that they were the most attractive people. on sky island--at least on the pink side--the sun arose in wonderful splendor, but also it set in a blaze of glory, and so there were arguments on both sides, and for want of something better to argue about, the pinkies took this queer subject as a cause of dispute. both tribes acknowledged tourmaline their queen and obeyed the laws of the country, and just at this time there was peace in the land, and all the inhabitants of the east and west were friendly. but they had been known, coralie said, to fight one another fiercely with their sharp sticks, at which times a good many were sure to get hurt. "why do they call this an island?" asked button-bright. "there isn't any water around it, is there?" "no, but there is sky all around it," answered coralie. "and if one should step off the edge, he would go tumbling into the great sky and never be heard of again." "is there a fence around the edge?" asked trot. "only a few places are fenced," was the reply. "usually there are rows of thick bushes set close to the edge to prevent people from falling off. once there was a king of the pinkies who was cruel and overbearing and imagined he was superior to the people he ruled, so one day his subjects carried him to the edge of the island and threw him over the bushes." "goodness me!" said trot. "he might have hit someone on the earth." "guess he skipped it, though," added cap'n bill, "for i never heard of a pinky till i came here." "and i have never heard of the earth," retorted coralie. "of course, there must be such a place, because you came from there, but the earth is never visible in our sky." "no," said button-bright, "'cause it's under your island. but it's there, all right, and it's a pretty good place to live. i wish i could get back to it." "so do i, button-bright!" exclaimed trot. "let's fly!" cried the parrot, turning his head so that one bright little eye looked directly into the girl's eye. "say goodbye and let's fly through the sky, far and high!" "if we only had my umbrella, we'd fly in a minute," sighed button-bright. "but the boolooroo stole it." "naughty, naughty boolooroo, what a wicked thing to do!" wailed the parrot, and they all agreed with him. coralie belonged to the sunset tribe, as she lived west of the queen's palace, which was the center of the pink country. a servant came to the room where they were conversing to state that the sun was about to set, and at once coralie arose and took the strangers to an upper balcony, where all the household had assembled. the neighboring houses also had their balconies and roofs filled with people, for it seemed all the sunset tribe came out every night to witness the setting of the sun. it was really a magnificent sight, and trot scarcely breathed as the great, golden ball sank low in the sky and colored all the clouds with gorgeous tints of orange, red and yellow. never on the earth was there visible such splendor, and as the little girl watched the ever-changing scene, she decided the sunset tribe was amply justified in claiming that the west was the favored country of the sun. "you see," said cap'n bill, "the sky is all around us, an' we're high up, so the sun really loses itself in the clouds an' leaves a trail of beauty behind him." "he does that!" agreed trot. "this is almost worth comin' for, cap'n." "but not quite," said button-bright sadly. "i'd get along without the sunset if only we could go home." they went in to dinner after this, and sat at coralie's own table with her husband and children and found the meal very good. after a pleasant evening, during which no reference was made to their being prisoners, they were shown to prettily furnished rooms--all in pink--and slept soundly in the soft beds provided for them. trot wakened early the next morning and went out on the balcony to see the sunrise. the little girl was well repaid, for the splendor of the rising sun was almost equal to that of the setting sun. surely this was a wonderful country and much more delightful than the blue side of the island, where the sun was hidden by the great fog and only the moon was visible. when she went in, she found that both button-bright and cap'n bill were up and dressed, so they decided to take a walk before breakfast. no one restrained them or interfered with them in any way. "they know we can't get away," observed the sailor, "so they don't need to watch us." "we could go into the fog bank again," suggested trot. "we could, mate, but we won't," answered cap'n bill. "if there's no way for us to get clean off'n sky island, i'd rather stay with the pinkies than with the blues." "i wonder what they'll do with us," said button-bright. "the queen seems like a nice girl, and i don't think she'll hurt us, whatever happens." they walked freely along the circular street, seeing such sights as the pink city afforded, and then returned to coralie's house for breakfast. coralie herself was not there, as she had been summoned to the queen's palace, but her husband looked after the guests, and when breakfast was finished he said to them, "i am to take you to tourmaline, who has promised to decide your fate this morning. i am curious to know what she will do with you, for in all our history we have never before had strangers intrude upon us." "we're curious, too," said trot, "but we'll soon find out." as they walked down the street, they observed that the sky was now covered with dark clouds which entirely hid the sun. "does it ever rain here?" inquired button-bright. "certainly," answered coralie's husband, "that is the one drawback of our country: it rains quite often. and although it makes the flowers and the grass grow, i think rain is very disagreeable. i am always glad to see the rainbow, which is a sign that the sun will shine again." "looks like rain now," remarked cap'n bill. "it does," said the man, glancing at the sky. "we must hurry, or we may get wet." "haven't you any umbrellas?" asked button-bright. "no, we don't know what umbrellas are," replied the pinky man. it did not rain at once, and they reached tourmaline's wretched hut in safety. there they found quite a number of pinkies assembled, and a spirited discussion was taking place when they arrived. "come in, please," said tourmaline, opening the door for them, and when they had entered, she placed a pinkwood bench for them to sit upon and went back to her throne, which was a common rocking chair. at her right were seated six men and women of the sunrise tribe, and on her left six men and women of the sunset tribe, among the latter being coralie. the contrast between the plain, simple dress of the queen and the gorgeous apparel of her counselors was quite remarkable, yet her beauty far surpassed that of any of her people, and her demeanor was so modest and unassuming that it was difficult for the prisoners to believe that her word would decree life or death and that all the others were subservient to her. tourmaline's eyes were so deep a shade of pink that they were almost hazel, and her hair was darker than that of the others, being a golden-red in color. these points, taken with her light-pink skin and slender form, rendered her distinctive among the pinkies, whatever gown she might wear. when the strangers were seated, she turned to them and said, "i have searched through the great book of laws and found nothing about foreign people entering our land. there is a law that if any of the blueskins break through the fog bank, they shall be driven back with sharp sticks; but you are not blueskins, so this law does not apply to you. therefore, in order to decide your fate, i have summoned a council of twelve of my people, who will vote as to whether you shall be permitted to remain here or not. they wanted to see you before they cast their final vote, that they may examine you carefully and discover if you are worthy to become inhabitants of the pink country." "the rose is red, the violet's blue, but trot is sweeter than the two!" declared the parrot in a loud voice. it was a little verse cap'n bill had taught the bird that very morning while trot was seeing the sun rise. the pinkies were startled and seemed a little frightened at hearing a bird speak so clearly. trot laughed and patted the bird's head in return for the compliment. "is the monster man whose legs are part wood a dangerous creature?" asked one of the sunrise tribe. "not to my friends," replied cap'n bill, much amused. "i s'pose i could fight your whole crowd of pinkies if i had to, an' make you run for your lives, but bein' as you're friendly to us, you ain't in any danger." the sailor thought this speech was diplomatic and might "head off any trouble," but the pinkies seemed uneasy, and several of them picked up their slender, pointed sticks and held them in their hands. they were not cowardly, but it was evident they mistrusted the big man, who on earth was not considered big at all, but rather undersized. "what we'd like," said trot, "is to stay here, cozy an' peaceable, till we can find a way to get home to the earth again. your country is much nicer than the blue country, and we like you pretty well from what we've seen of you, so if you'll let us stay, we won't be any more trouble to you than we can help." they all gazed upon the little girl curiously, and one of them said, "how strangely light her color is! and it is pink, too, which is in her favor. but her eyes are of that dreadful blue tint which prevails in the other half of sky island, while her hair is a queer color unknown to us. she is not like our people and would not harmonize with the universal color here." "that's true," said another. "the three strangers are all inharmonious. if allowed to remain here, they would ruin the color scheme of the country, where all is now pink." "in spite of that," said coralie, "they are harmless creatures and have done us no wrong." "yes they have," replied a nervous little sunrise man, "they wronged us by coming here." "they could not help doing that," argued coralie, "and it is their misfortune that they are here on sky island at all. perhaps if we keep them with us for a while, they may find a way to return safely to their own country." "we'll fly through the sky by-and-by--ki-yi!" yelled the parrot with startling suddenness. "is that true?" asked a pinky seriously. "why, we would if we could," answered trot. "we flew to this island, anyhow." "perhaps," said another, "if we pushed them off the edge, they could fly down again. who knows?" "we know," answered cap'n bill hastily. "we'd tumble, but we wouldn't fly." "they'd take a fall- and that is all!" observed the parrot, fluttering its wings. there was silence for a moment while all the pinkies seemed to think deeply. then the queen asked the strangers to step outside while they counseled together. our friends obeyed, and leaving the room they all entered the courtyard and examined the rows of pink marble statues for nearly an hour before they were summoned to return to the little room in tourmaline's palace. "we are now ready to vote as to your fate," said the pretty queen to them. "we have decided there are but two things for us do to: either permit you to remain here as honored guests or take you to an edge of the island and throw you over the bushes into the sky." they were silent at hearing this dreadful alternative, but the parrot screamed shrilly, "oh, what a dump! oh, what a jump! won't we all thump when we land with a bump?" "if we do," said cap'n bill thoughtfully, "we'll none of us know it." rosalie the witch chapter 16 trot and button-bright had now become worried and anxious, for they knew if they were tossed over the edge of the island they would be killed. cap'n bill frowned and set his jaws tight together. the old sailor had made up his mind to make a good fight for his boy and girl, as well as for his own life, if he was obliged to do so. the twelve counselors then voted, and when the vote was counted, tourmaline announced that six had voted to allow the strangers to remain and six to toss them over the bushes. "we seem evenly divided on this matter," remarked the queen with a puzzled look at her council. trot thought the pretty queen was their friend, so she said, "of course you'll have the deciding vote, then, you being the ruler." "oh no," replied tourmaline. "since i have asked these good people to advise me, it would be impolite to side against some of them and with the others. that would imply that the judgment of some of my counselors is wrong, and the judgment of others right. i must ask someone else to cast the deciding vote." "who will it be, then?" inquired trot. "can't i do it? or cap'n bill or button-bright?" tourmaline smiled and shook her head, while all the counselors murmured their protests. "let trot do it or you'll rue it!" advised the parrot, and then he barked like a dog and made them all jump. "let me think a moment," said the queen, resting her chin on her hand. "a pink can think as quick's a wink!" the parrot declared. but tourmaline's thoughts required time, and all her counselors remained silent and watched her anxiously. at last she raised her head and said, "i shall call upon rosalie the witch. she is wise and honest and will decide the matter justly." the pinkies seemed to approve this choice, so tourmaline rose and took a small, pink paper parcel from a drawer. in it was a pink powder, which she scattered upon the seat of a big armchair. then she lighted this powder, which at first flashed vivid pink and then filled all the space around the chair with a thick, pink cloud of smoke. presently the smoke cleared away, when they all saw seated within the chair rosalie the witch. this famous woman was much like the other pinkies in appearance except that she was somewhat taller and not quite so fat as most of the people. her skin and hair and eyes were all of a rosy, pink color, and her gown was of spiderweb gauze that nicely matched her complexion. she did not seem very old, for her features were smiling and attractive and pleasant to view. she held in her hand a slender staff tipped with a lustrous pink jewel. all the pinkies present bowed very respectfully to rosalie, who returned the salutation with a dignified nod. then tourmaline began to explain the presence of the three strangers and the difficulty of deciding what to do with them. "i have summoned you here that you may cast the deciding vote," added the queen. "what shall we do, rosalie, allow them to remain here as honored guests, or toss them over the bushes into the sky?" rosalie, during tourmaline's speech, had been attentively examining the faces of the three earth people. now she said, "before i decide, i must see who these strangers are. i will follow their adventures in a vision to discover if they have told you the truth. and in order that you may all share my knowledge, you shall see the vision as i see it." she then bowed her head and closed her eyes. "rock-a-bye, baby, on a treetop; don't wake her up, or the vision will stop," muttered the parrot, but no one paid any attention to the noisy bird. gradually, a pink mist formed in the air about the witch, and in this mist the vision began to appear. first, there was button-bright in the attic of his house, finding the magic umbrella. then his first flight was shown, and afterward his trip across the united states until he landed on the bluff where trot sat. in rapid succession the scenes shifted and disclosed the trial flights, with trot and cap'n bill as passengers, then the trip to sky island and the meeting with the boolooroo. no sound was heard, but it was easy from the gestures of the actors for the pinkies to follow all the adventures of the strangers in the blue country. button-bright was greatly astonished to see in this vision how the boolooroo had tested the magic umbrella and in a fit of rage cast it into a corner underneath the cabinet, with the seats and lunch basket still attached to the handle by means of the rope. the boy now knew why he could not find the umbrella in the treasure chamber, and he was provoked to think he had several times been quite close to it without knowing it was there. the last scene ended with the trip through the fog bank and the assistance rendered them by the friendly frog. after the three tumbled upon the grass of the pink country, the vision faded away, and rosalie lifted her head with a smile of triumph at the success of her witchcraft. "did you see clearly?" she asked. "we did, o wonderful witch!" they declared. "then," said rosalie, "there can be no doubt in your minds that these strangers have told you the truth." "none at all," they admitted. "what arguments are advanced by the six counselors who voted to allow them to remain here as guests?" inquired the witch. "they have done us no harm," answered coralie, speaking for her side, "therefore we should, in honor and justice, do them no harm." rosalie nodded. "what arguments have the others advanced?" she asked. "they interfere with our color scheme and do not harmonize with our people," a man of the sunrise tribe answered. again rosalie nodded, and trot thought her eyes twinkled a little. "i think i now fully comprehend the matter," said she, "and so i will cast my vote. i favor taking the earth people to the edge of the island and casting them into the sky." for a moment there was perfect silence in the room. all present realized that this was a decree of death to the strangers. trot was greatly surprised at the decision, and for a moment she thought her heart had stopped beating, for a wave of fear swept over her. button-bright flushed red as a pinky and then grew very pale. he crept closer to trot and took her hand in his own, pressing it to give the little girl courage. as for cap'n bill, he was watching the smiling face of the witch in a puzzled but not hopeless way, for he thought she did not seem wholly in earnest in what she had said. "the case is decided," announced tourmaline in a clear, cold voice. "the three strangers shall be taken at once to the edge of the island and thrown over the bushes into the sky." "it's raining hard outside," announced coralie, who sat near the door. "why not wait until this shower is over?" "i have said 'at once,'" replied the little queen with dignity, "and so it must be at once. we are accustomed to rain, so it need not delay us, and when a disagreeable duty is to be performed, the sooner it is accomplished the better." "may i ask, ma'am," said cap'n bill, addressing the witch, "why you have decided to murder of us in this cold-blooded way?" "i did not decide to murder you," answered rosalie. "to throw us off the island will be murder," declared the sailor. "then they cannot throw you off," the witch replied. "the queen says they will." "i know," said rosalie, "but i'm quite positive her people can't do it." this statement astonished all the pinkies, who looked at the witch inquiringly. "why not?" asked tourmaline. "it is evident to me," said the witch, speaking slowly and distinctly, "that these earth people are protected in some way by fairies. they may not be aware of this themselves, nor did i see any fairies in my vision. but if you will think upon it carefully, you will realize that the magic umbrella has no power in itself, but is enchanted by fairy power so that it is made to fly and carry passengers through the air by fairies. this being the case, i do not think you will be allowed to injure these favored people in any way; but i am curious to see in what manner the fairies will defend them, and therefore i have voted to have them thrown off the island. i bear these strangers no ill will, nor do i believe they are in any danger. but since you, tourmaline, have determined to attempt this terrible thing at once, i shall go with you and see what will happen." some of the pinkies looked pleased and some troubled at this speech, but they all prepared to escort the prisoners to the nearest edge of the island. the rain was pouring down in torrents, and umbrellas were unknown; but all of them, both men and women, slipped gossamer raincoats over their clothing, which kept the rain from wetting them. then they caught up their sharp sticks and surrounding the doomed captives commanded them to march to meet their fate. the arrival of polychrome chapter 17 cap'n bill had determined to fight desperately for their lives, but he was a shrewd old sailorman, and he found much that was reasonable in the witch's assertion that fairies would protect them. he had often wondered how the magic umbrella could fly and obey spoken commands, but now he plainly saw that the thing must be directed by some invisible power, and that power was quite likely to save them from the cruel death that had been decreed. to be sure, the magic umbrella was now in the blue country, and the fairies that directed its flight might be with the umbrella instead of with them, yet the old sailor had already experienced some strange adventures in trot's company and knew she had managed to escape every danger that had threatened. so he decided not to fight until the last moment and meekly hobbled along the street as he was commanded to do. trot was also encouraged by the witch's suggestion, for she believed in fairies and trusted them; but button-bright could find no comfort in their situation, and his face was very sad as he marched along by trot's side. if they had followed the corkscrew windings of the street, it would have been a long journey to the outer edge of the pink country, but tourmaline took a shortcut, leading them through private gardens and even through houses, so that they followed almost a bee line to their destination. it rained all the way and the walking was very disagreeable, but our friends were confronting an important crisis in their strange adventures, and with possible death at their journey's end, they were in no hurry to arrive there. once free of the city they traversed the open country, and here they often stepped into sticky, pink mud up to their ankles. cap'n bill's wooden leg would often go down deep and stick fast in this mud, and at such times he would be helpless until two of the pinkies--who were a strong people--pulled him out again. the parrot was getting its feathers sadly draggled in the rain, and the poor bird soon presented a wet and woebegone appearance. "soak us again, drown us with rain!" it muttered in a resigned tone; and then it would turn to trot and moan, "the rose is red, the violet's blue, the pinkies are a beastly crew!" the country was not so trim and neatly kept near the edge, for it was evident the people did not care to go too near to the dangerous place. there was a row of thick bushes which concealed the gulf below, and as they approached these bushes the rain abruptly ceased, and the clouds began to break and drift away in the sky. "two of you seize the girl and throw her over," said tourmaline in a calm, matter-of-fact way, "and two others must throw the boy over. it may take four, perhaps, to lift the huge and ancient man." "more'n that," said cap'n bill grimly. "i'm pretty sure it'll take all o' you, young lady, an' the chances are you won't do it then." they had halted a short distance from the bushes, and now there suddenly appeared through a rift in the clouds an immense rainbow. it was perfectly formed and glistened with a dozen or more superb tintings that were so vivid and brilliant and blended into one another so exquisitely that everyone paused to gaze enraptured upon the sight. steadily, yet with wonderful swiftness, the end of the great bow descended until it rested upon the pink field--almost at the feet of the little party of observers. then they saw, dancing gaily upon the arch, a score of beautiful maidens, dressed in fleecy robes of rainbow tints which fluttered around them like clouds. "the daughters of the rainbow!" whispered tourmaline in an awed voice, and the witch beside her nodded and said, "fairies of the sky. what did i tell you, tourmaline?" just then one of the maidens tripped lightly down the span of the arch until near the very end, leaning over to observe the group below. she was exquisitely fair, dainty as a lily and graceful as a bough swaying in the breeze. "why, it's polychrome!" exclaimed button-bright in a voice of mingled wonder and delight. "hello, polly! don't you remember me?" "of course i remember button-bright," replied the maiden in a sweet, tinkling voice. "the last time i saw you was in the land of oz." "oh!" cried trot, turning to stare at the boy with big, wide-open eyes. "were you ever in the land of oz?" "yes," he answered, still looking at the rainbow's daughter, and then he said appealingly, "these people want to kill us, polly. can't you help us?" "polly wants a cracker! polly wants a cracker!" screeched the parrot. polychrome straightened up and glanced at her sisters. "tell father to call for me in an hour or two," said she. "there is work for me to do here, for one of my old friends is in trouble." with this she sprang lightly from the rainbow and stood beside button-bright and trot, and scarcely had she left the splendid arch when it lifted and rose into the sky. the other end had been hidden in the clouds, and now the rainbow began to fade gradually, like mist, and the sun broke through the clouds and shot its cheering rays over the pink country until presently the rainbow had vanished altogether and the only reminder of it was the lovely polychrome standing among the wondering band of pinkies. "tell me," she said gently to the boy, "why are you here, and why do these people of the sky wish to destroy you?" in a few hurried words button-bright related their adventures with the magic umbrella and how the boolooroo had stolen it and they had been obliged to escape into the pink country. polychrome listened and then turned to the queen. "why have you decreed death to these innocent strangers?" she asked. "they do not harmonize with our color scheme," replied tourmaline. "that is utter nonsense," declared polychrome impatiently. "you're so dreadfully pink here that your color, which in itself is beautiful, had become tame and insipid. what you really need is some sharp contrast to enhance the charm of your country, and to keep these three people here would be a benefit rather than an injury to you." at this, the pinkies looked downcast and ashamed, while only rosalie the witch laughed and seemed to enjoy the rebuke. "but," protested tourmaline, "the great book of laws says our country shall harbor none but the pinkies." "does it indeed?" asked the rainbow's daughter. "come, let us return at once to your city and examine your book of laws. i am quite sure i can find in them absolute protection for these poor wanderers." they dared not disobey polychrome's request, so at once they all turned and walked back to the city. as it was still muddy underfoot, the rainbow's daughter took a cloak from one of the women, partly rolled it, and threw it upon the ground. then she stepped upon it and began walking forward. the cloak unrolled as she advanced, affording a constant carpet for her feet and for those of the others who followed her. so, being protected from the mud and wet, they speedily gained the city and in a short time were all gathered in the low room of tourmaline's palace, where the great book of laws lay upon a table. polychrome began turning over the leaves, while the others all watched her anxiously and in silence. "here," she said presently, "is a law which reads as follows: 'everyone in the pink country is entitled to the protection of the ruler and to a house and a good living, except only the blueskins. if any of the natives of the blue country should ever break through the fog bank, they must be driven back with sharp sticks.' have you read this law, tourmaline?" "yes," said the queen, "but how does that apply to these strangers?" "why, being in the pink country, as they surely are, and not being blueskins, they are by this law entitled to protection, to a home and good living. the law does not say 'pinkies,' it says any who are in the pink country." "true," agreed coralie, greatly pleased, and all the other pinkies nodded their heads and repeated, "true, true!" "the rose is red, the violet's blue, the law's the thing, because it's true!" cried the parrot. "i am indeed relieved to have you interpret the law in this way," declared tourmaline. "i knew it was cruel to throw these poor people over the edge, but that seemed to us the only thing to be done." "it was cruel and unjust," answered polychrome as sternly as her sweet voice could speak. "but here," she added, for she had still continued to turn the leaves of the great book, "is another law which you have also overlooked. it says, 'the person, whether man or woman, boy or girl, living in the pink country who has the lightest skin shall be the ruler--king or queen--as long as he or she lives, unless someone of a lighter skin is found, and this ruler's commands all the people must obey.' do you know this law?" "oh yes," replied tourmaline. "that is why i am the queen. you will notice my complexion is of a lighter pink than that of any other of my people." "yes," remarked polychrome, looking at her critically, "when you were made queen without doubt you had the lightest-colored skin in all the pink country. but now you are no longer queen of the pinkies, tourmaline." those assembled were so startled by this statement that they gazed at the rainbow's daughter in astonishment for a time. then tourmaline asked, "why not, your highness?" "because here is one lighter in color than yourself," pointed to trot. "this girl is, by the law of the great book, the rightful queen of the pinkies, and as loyal citizens you are all obliged to obey her commands. give me that circlet from your brow, tourmaline." without hesitation tourmaline removed the rose-gold circlet with its glittering jewel and handed it to polychrome, who turned and placed it upon trot's brow. then she called in a loud, imperative voice, "greet your new queen, pinkies!" one by one they all advanced, knelt before trot and pressed her hand to their lips. "long live queen mayre!" called out cap'n bill, dancing around on his wooden leg in great delight. "vive la--vive la--ah, ah, trot!" "thank you, polly," said button-bright gratefully. "this will fix us all right, i'm sure." "why, i have done nothing," returned polychrome, smiling upon him. "it is the law of the country. isn't it surprising how little people know of their laws? are you all contented, pinkies?" she asked, turning to the people. "we are!" they cried. then several of the men ran out to spread the news throughout the city and country, so that a vast crowd soon began to gather in the court of the statues. mayre, queen of the pink country chapter 18 polychrome now dismissed all but button-bright, cap'n bill, rosalie the witch and the new queen of the pinkies. tourmaline hastened away to her father's house to put on a beautiful gown all covered with flounces and ribbons, for she was glad to be relieved of the duties of the queen and was eager to be gaily dressed and one of the people again. "i s'pose," said trot, "i'll have to put on one of tourmaline's common pink dresses." "yes," replied polychrome, "you must follow the customs of the country, absurd though they may be. in the little sleeping chamber adjoining this room you will find plenty of gowns poor enough for the queen to wear. shall i assist you to put one on?" "no," answered trot, "i guess i can manage it alone." when she withdrew to the little chamber, the rainbow's daughter began conversing with the witch, whom she urged to stay with the new queen and protect her as long as she ruled the pink country. rosalie, who longed to please the powerful polychrome, whose fairy powers as daughters of the rainbow were far superior to her own witchcraft, promised faithfully to devote herself to queen mayre as long as she might need her services. by the time trot was dressed in pink and had returned to the room, there was an excited and clamorous crowd assembled in the court, and polychrome took the little girl's hand and led her out to greet her new subjects. the pinkies were much impressed by the fact that the rainbow's daughter was their new queen's friend, and that rosalie the witch stood on trot's left hand and treated her with humble deference. so they shouted their approval very enthusiastically and pressed forward one by one to kneel before their new ruler and kiss her hand. the parrot was now on cap'n bill's shoulder, for trot thought a queen ought not to carry a bird around, but the parrot did not mind the change and was as much excited as anyone in the crowd. "oh, what bliss to kiss a miss!" he shouted as trot held out her hand to be kissed by her subjects, and then he would scream, "we're in the sky and flyin' high; we're goin' to live instead of die, it's time to laugh instead of cry; oh, my! ki-yi! ain't this a pie?" cap'n bill let the bird jabber as he pleased, for the occasion was a joyful one, and it was no wonder the parrot was excited. and while the throng shouted greetings to the queen, suddenly the great rainbow appeared in the sky and dropped its end right on the court of the statues. polychrome stooped to kiss trot and button-bright, gave cap'n bill a charming smile and rosalie the witch a friendly nod of farewell. then she sprang lightly upon the arch of the rainbow and was greeted by the bevy of dancing, laughing maidens who were her sisters. "i shall keep watch over you, button-bright," she called to the boy. "don't despair, whatever happens, for behind the clouds is always the rainbow!" "thank you, polly," he answered, and trot also thanked the lovely polychrome, and so did cap'n bill. the parrot made quite a long speech, flying high above the arch where polychrome stood and then back to cap'n bill's shoulder. said he, "we pollys know our business, and we're all right! we'll take good care of cap'n bill and trot and button-bright. you watch 'em from the rainbow, and i'll watch day and night, and we'll call a sky policeman if trouble comes in sight!" suddenly, the bow lifted and carried the dancing maidens into the sky. the colors faded, the arch slowly dissolved and the heavens were clear. trot turned to the pinkies. "let's have a holiday today," she said. "have a good time and enjoy yourselves. i don't jus' know how i'm goin' to rule this country yet, but i'll think it over an' let you know." then she went into the palace hut with cap'n bill and button-bright and rosalie the witch, and the people went away to enjoy themselves and talk over the surprising events of the day. "dear me," said trot, throwing herself into a chair, "wasn't that a sudden change of fortune, though? that rainbow's daughter is a pretty good fairy. i'm glad you know her, button-bright." "i was sure something would happen to save you," remarked rosalie, "and that was why i voted to have you thrown off the edge. i wanted to discover who would come to your assistance, and i found out. now i have made a friend of polychrome, and that will render me more powerful as a witch, for i can call upon her for assistance whenever i need her." "but see here," said cap'n bill. "you can't afford to spend your time a-rulin' this tucked-up country, trot." "why not?" asked trot, who was pleased with her new and important position. "it'd get pretty tiresome, mate, after you'd had a few quarrels with the pinkies, for they expec' their queen to be as poor as poverty an' never have any fun in life." "you wouldn't like it for long, i'm sure," added button-bright seriously. trot seemed thoughtful. "no, i don't know's i would," she admitted. "but as long as we stay here, it seems a pretty good thing to be queen. i guess i'm a little proud of it. i wish mother could see me rulin' the pinkies, an' papa griffith, too. wouldn't they open their eyes?" "they would, mate, but they can't see you," said cap'n bill. "so the question is, what's to be done?" "we ought to get home," observed the boy. "our folks will worry about us, and earth's the best place to live, after all. if we could only get hold of my magic umbrella, we'd be all right." "the rose is red, the violet's blue, but the umbrel's stolen by the boolooroo!" screamed the parrot. "that's it," said cap'n bill. "the boolooroo's got the umbrel, an' that settles the question." "tell me," said rosalie, "if you had your magic umbrella, could you fly home again in safety?" "of course we could," replied button-bright. "and would you prefer to go home to remaining here?" "we would indeed!" "then why do you not get the umbrella?" "how?" asked trot eagerly. "you must go into the blue country and force the boolooroo to give up your property." "through the fog bank?" asked cap'n bill doubtfully. "and let the boolooroo capture us again?" demanded button-bright with a shiver. "an' have to wait on the snubnoses instead of bein' a queen?" said trot. "you must remember that conditions have changed, and you are now a powerful ruler," replied rosalie. "the pinkies are really a great nation, and they are pledged to obey your commands. why not assemble an army, march through the fog bank, fight and conquer the boolooroo and recapture the magic umbrella?" "hooray!" shouted cap'n bill, pounding his wooden leg on the floor. "that's the proper talk! let's do it, queen trot." "it doesn't seem like a bad idea," added button-bright. "do you think the pinkies would fight the blueskins?" asked trot. "why not?" replied the sailorman. "they have sharp sticks an' know how to use 'em, whereas the blueskins have only them windin'-up cords with weights on the ends." "the blueskins are the biggest people," said the girl. "but they're cowards, i'm sure," declared the boy. "anyhow," the sailor remarked, "that's our only hope of ever gett'n' home again. i'd like to try it, trot." "if you decide on this adventure," said rosalie, "i believe i can be of much assistance to you." "that'll help," asserted cap'n bill. "and we've one good friend among the blueskins," said button-bright. "i'm sure ghip-ghisizzle will side with us, and i've got the royal record book, which proves that the boolooroo has already reigned his lawful three hundred years." "does the book say that?" inquired trot with interest. "yes, i've been reading it." "then sizzle'll be the new boolooroo," said the girl, "an' p'raps we won't have to fight, after all." "we'd better go prepared, though," advised cap'n bill, "fer that awful ol' boolooroo won't give up without a struggle. when shall we start?" trot hesitated, so they all looked to rosalie for advice. "just as soon as we can get the army together and ready," decided the witch. "that will not take long. perhaps two or three days." "good!" cried cap'n bill, and the parrot screamed, "here's a lovely how-d'y'-do- we're going to fight the boolooroo! we'll get the six snubnoses, too, and make 'em all feel mighty blue." "either that or the other thing," said trot. "anyhow, we're in for it." the war of the pinks and blues chapter 19 much to the surprise of the earth people, the pinkies made no objection whatever to undertaking the adventure. their lives were so monotonous and uninteresting that they welcomed anything in the way of excitement. this march through the unknown fog bank to fight the unknown blueskins aroused them to enthusiasm, and although the result of the expedition could not be foretold and some of them were almost certain to get hurt, they did not hesitate to undertake the war. it appeared that coralie was captain of the sunset tribe and a man named tintint the captain of the sunrise tribe. tintint had a very pink skin and eyes so faded in their pink color that he squinted badly in order to see anything around him. he was a fat and pompous little fellow and loved to strut up and down his line of warriors twirling his long, pointed stick so that all might admire him. by rosalie's advice the army of conquest consisted of one hundred sunsets and one hundred sunrises. many more were eager to go, but the witch thought that would be enough. the warriors consisted of both men and women, equally divided, and there was no need to provide uniforms for them because their regular pink clothing was a distinctive uniform in itself. each one bore a long, pointed stick as the main weapon and had two short, pointed sticks stuck in his belt. while the army was getting ready, rosalie the witch went to the central edge of the fog bank and fearlessly entered it. there she called for the king of the giant frogs, who came at her bidding, and the two held an earnest and long talk together. meantime, cap'n bill had the army assembled in the court of the statues, where queen mayre appeared and told the pinkies that the sailorman was to be commander in chief of the expedition and all must obey his commands. then cap'n bill addressed the army and told them what the fog bank was like. he advised them all to wear their raincoats over their pretty pink clothes so they would not get wet, and he assured them that all the creatures to be met with in the fog were perfectly harmless. "when we come to the blue country, though," he added, "you're liable to be pretty busy. the blueskins are tall an' lanky, an' ugly an' fierce, an' if they happen to capture you, you'll all be patched, which is a deep disgrace an' a uncomfortable mix-up." "will they throw us over the edge?" asked captain tintint. "i don't think so," replied cap'n bill. "while i was there i never heard the edge mentioned. they're cruel enough to do that--'specially the boolooroo--but i guess they've never thought o' throwin' folks over the edge. they fight with long cords that have weights on the ends, which coil 'round you an' make you helpless in a jiffy; so whenever they throw them cords you mus' ward 'em off with your long sticks. don't let 'em wind around your bodies, or you're done for." he told them other things about the blueskins, so they would not be frightened when they faced the enemy and found them so different in appearance from themselves, and also he assured them that the pinkies were so much the braver and better armed that he had no doubt they would easily conquer. on the third day, just at sunrise, the army moved forward to the fog bank, headed by cap'n bill, clad in an embroidered pink coat with wide, flowing pink trousers, and accompanied by trot and button-bright and rosalie the witch, all bundled up in their pink raincoats. the parrot was there, too, as the bird refused to be left behind. they had not advanced far into the deep fog when they were halted by a queer barrier consisting of a long line of gigantic frogs, crouching so close together that no pinkie could squeeze between them. as the heads of the frogs were turned the other way, toward the blue country, the army could not at first imagine what the barrier was. but rosalie said to them, "our friends the frogs have agreed to help us through the fog bank. climb upon their backs, as many on each frog as are able to hold on, and then we shall make the journey more quickly." obeying this injunction, the pinkies began climbing upon the frogs, and by crowding close together, all were able to find places. on the back of the king frog rode trot and her parrot, besides rosalie, button-bright, cap'n bill and the captains of the two companies of the army. when all were seated, clinging to one another so they would not slide off, cap'n bill gave the word of command and away leaped the frogs, all together. they bounded a long distance at this jump--some farther than others--and as soon as they landed they jumped again, without giving their passengers a chance to get their breaths. it was a bewildering and exciting ride, but a dozen of the huge jumps accomplished the journey, and at the edge of the fog bank each frog stopped so suddenly that the pinkies went flying over their heads to tumble into the blue fields of the blue country, where they rolled in a confused mass until they could recover and scramble to their feet. no one was hurt, however, and the king frog had been wise enough to treat his passengers more gently by slowing down at the edge and allowing his riders to slip to the ground very comfortably. cap'n bill at once formed his army into line of battle and had them all remove the cumbersome raincoats, which they piled in a heap at the edge of the fog bank. it was a splendid array of warriors, and from where they stood they could discover several blueskins rushing in a panic toward the blue city as fast as their long, blue legs could carry them. "well, they know we're here, anyhow," said cap'n bill, "and instead of waitin' to see what'll they do, i guess we'll jus' march on the city an' ask 'em to please surrender." ghip-ghisizzle has a bad time chapter 20 the boolooroo was quite busy at the time the pinkies invaded his country. he had discovered the loss of the book of records, and after being frightened 'most to death at the prospect of his fraud on the people's being made public, he decided to act boldly and hold his position as boolooroo at any cost. since ghip-ghisizzle was to be the next boolooroo, the king suspected him first of all, so he had the majordomo bound with cords and brought before him, when he accused him of stealing the book of records. of course, ghip-ghisizzle denied taking the book, but he became almost as nervous at its loss as had the boolooroo. he secretly believed that button-bright had taken the book from the treasure chamber, and if this were true it might prove as great a misfortune as if the king had kept it locked up. for button-bright had escaped into the fog bank, and ghip-ghisizzle was afraid the boy would never again be seen in the blue country. he did not tell the boolooroo of this suspicion, because in that case the king would realize he was secure and that his deception could never be proved against him. the majordomo simply denied taking the record book, and the boolooroo did not believe he spoke truly. to prevent his rival from ever becoming the ruler of the blue country, the boolooroo determined to have him patched, but for some time he could find no other blueskin to patch him with. no one had disobeyed a command or done anything wrong, so the king was in a quandary until he discovered that a servant named tiggle had mixed the royal nectar for cap'n bill, who had been ordered to do it at the time of his capture. this was sufficient excuse for the boolooroo, who at once had tiggle made a prisoner and brought before him. this servant was not so long-legged as ghip-ghisizzle, and his head was thicker and his nose flatter. but that pleased the boolooroo all the more. he realized that when the great knife had sliced the prisoners in two and their halves were patched together, they would present a ridiculous sight and all the blueskins would laugh at them and avoid them. so on the very morning that the pinkies arrived, the boolooroo had ordered his two prisoners brought into the room of the palace where the great knife stood, and his soldiers were getting ready to perform the operation of patching ghip-ghisizzle with tingle when a messenger came running to say that a great army of the pinkies had broken through the fog bank. "never mind," said the boolooroo, "i'll attend to them in a minute. i'm busy now." "they are marching on the city," said the frightened messenger. "if you delay, most high and mighty one, we shall all be captured. you'd better save your city first and do your patching afterward." "what!" roared the boolooroo. "dare you dictate to me?" but he was impressed by the man's logic. after locking the prisoners, who were still bound, in the room of the great knife, the ruler hurried away to assemble his soldiers. by this time the pinkies had advanced halfway to the walls of the city, so the first thing the boolooroo did was to order all the gates closed and locked, and then he placed a line of soldiers on the wall to prevent any of the pinkies from climbing over. therefore, when cap'n bill's army reached the wall, he was obliged to halt his ranks until he could find a way to enter the city. now when the boolooroo looked through the blue-steel bars of the main gate and saw the enemy armed with sharp-pointed sticks, he began to tremble; and when he thought how painful it would be to have his body and arms and legs prodded and pricked by such weapons, he groaned aloud and was very miserable. but the thought occurred to him that if he could avoid being caught by the pinkies, they would be unable to harm him. so he went among his people and reminded them how horrible it would feel to be punched full of holes by the invaders and urged them to fight desperately and drive the pinkies back into the fog bank. only a few of the blueskins were soldiers, and these all belonged to the king's bodyguard, but the citizens realized that they must indeed fight bravely to save themselves from getting hurt, so they promised the boolooroo to do all they could. they armed themselves with long cords having weights fastened to the ends and practiced throwing these weights in such a manner that the cords would wind around their enemies. also, they assembled in the streets in small groups and told each other in frightened whispers that all their trouble was due to the boolooroo's cruel treatment of the earth people. if he had received them as friends instead of making them slaves, they would never have escaped to the pinkies and brought an army into the blue country that they might be revenged. the blueskins had not liked their boolooroo before this, and now they began to hate him, forgetting they had also treated the strangers in a very disagreeable manner. meantime, the six snubnosed princesses had seen from their rooms in a tower of the palace the army of the pinkies marching upon them, and the sight had served to excite them greatly. they had been quarreling bitterly among themselves all morning, and strangely enough this quarrel was all about which of them should marry ghip-ghisizzle. they knew that some day the majordomo would become boolooroo, and each one of the six had determined to marry him so as to be queen and thus force her sisters to obey her commands. they paid no attention to the fact that ghip-ghisizzle did not want to marry any of them, for they had determined that when it was agreed who should have him, they would ask their father to force the man to marry. while they quarreled in one room of the palace, ghip-ghisizzle was in danger of being patched in another room; but the six snubnosed princesses did not know that. the arrival of the pinkies gave them something new to talk about, so they hurried downstairs and along the corridors so as to gain the courtyard and take part in the exciting scenes. but as they passed the closed doors of the room of the great knife, they heard a low moan and stopped to listen. the moan was repeated, and being curious, they unlocked the door--the key having been left on the outside--and entered the room. at once, the pinkies were forgotten, for there upon the floor, tightly bound, lay ghip-ghisizzle, and beside him poor tiggle, who had uttered the moans. the six princesses sat down in a circle facing the captives, and cerulia said, "ghip, my dear, we will release you on one condition: that you choose a wife from among us and promise to marry the one selected as soon as the pinkies are driven back into the fog bank." ghip-ghisizzle managed to shake his head. then he said, "really, ladies, you must excuse me. i'd rather be patched than mismatched, as i would be with a lovely, snub-nosed wife. you are too beautiful for me; go seek your husbands elsewhere." "monster!" cried indigo. "if you choose me, i'll scratch your eyes out!" "if you choose me," said cobalt in a rage, "i'll tear out your hair by the roots!" "if i am to be your wife," screamed azure, "i'll mark your obstinate face with my fingernails!" "and i," said turquoise passionately, "will pound your head with a broomstick!" "i'll shake him till his teeth rattle!" shrieked sapphire. "the best way to manage a husband," observed cerulia angrily, "is to pull his nose." "ladies," said ghip-ghisizzle when he had a chance to speak, "do not anticipate these pleasures, i beg of you, for i shall choose none among you for a wife." "we'll see about that," said indigo. "i think you will soon change your mind," added azure. "i'm going to be patched to tingle, here, as soon as the boolooroo returns," said ghip-ghisizzle, "and it's against the law for a patched man to marry anyone. it's regarded as half-bigamy." "dear me!" cried cerulia. "if he's patched, he never can be boolooroo." "then he musn't be patched," declared sapphire. "we must save him from that fate, girls, and force him to decide among us. otherwise, none of us can ever be the queen." this being evident, they proceeded to unbind the long legs of ghip-ghisizzle, leaving his body and arms, however, tied fast together. then between them they got him upon his feet and led him away, paying no attention to poor tiggle, who whined to be released so he could fight in the war. after a hurried consultation, the six snubnosed princesses decided to hide the majordomo in one of their boudoirs, so they dragged him up the stairs to their reception room and fell to quarreling as to whose boudoir should be occupied by their captive. not being able to settle the question, they finally locked him up in a vacant room across the hall and told him he must stay there until he had decided to marry one of the princesses and could make a choice among them. the capture of cap'n bill chapter 21 while this was transpiring in the palace, cap'n bill and the pinkies had encamped before the principal gate of the city and a tent had been pitched for trot and button-bright and rosalie. the army had been very fearful and weak-kneed when it first entered the blue country, but perceiving that the boolooroo and his people were afraid of them and had locked themselves up in the city, the pinkies grew bolder and longed to make an attack. one of them, in his curiosity to examine the blue city, got a little too near the wall, and a blue soldier threw his cord-and-weight at him. the cord didn't wind around the pinkie, as he was too far off, but the weight hit him in the eye and made him howl lustily as he trotted back to this comrades at full speed. after this experience, the invaders were careful to keep a safe distance from the wall. the boolooroo, having made all preparations to receive the enemy, was annoyed because they held back. he was himself so nervous and excited that he became desperate, and after an hour of tedious waiting, during which time he pranced around impatiently, he decided to attack the hated pinkies and rid the country of them. "their dreadful color makes me hysterical," he said to his soldiers, "so if i am to have any peace of mind, we must charge the foe and drive them back into the fog bank. but take all the prisoners you can, my brave men, and tomorrow we will have a jolly time patching them. don't be afraid; those pink creatures have no blue blood in their veins, and they'll run like rabbits when they see us coming." then he ordered the gate thrown open, and immediately the blueskins poured out into the open plain and began to run toward the pinkies. the boolooroo went out, too, but he kept well behind his people, remembering the sharp sticks with which the enemy were armed. cap'n bill was alert and had told his army what to do in case of an attack. the pinkies did not run like rabbits, but formed a solid line and knelt down with their long, sharp sticks pointed directly toward the blueskins, the other ends being set firmly upon the ground. of course, the blueskins couldn't run against these sharp points, so they halted a few feet away and began swinging their cord-and-weights. but the pinkies were too close together to be caught in this manner, and now by command of cap'n bill they suddenly rose to their feet and began jabbing their sticks at the foe. the blueskins hesitated until a few got pricked and began to yell with terror, when the whole of the boolooroo's attacking party turned around and ran back to the gate, their ruler reaching it first of all. the pinkies tried to chase them, but their round, fat legs were no match for the long, thin legs of the blueskins, who quickly gained the gate and shut themselves up in the city again. "it is evident," panted the boolooroo, facing his defeated soldiers wrathfully, "that you are a pack of cowards!" "but we followed your own royal example in running," replied the captain. "i merely ran back to the city to get a drink of water, for i was thirsty," declared the boolooroo. "so did we! so did we!" cried the soldiers eagerly. "we were all thirsty." "your high and mighty spry and flighty majesty," remarked the captain respectfully, "it occurs to me that the weapons of the pinkies are superior to our own. what we need in order to oppose them successfully is a number of sharp sticks which are longer than their own." "true, true!" exclaimed the boolooroo enthusiastically. "get to work at once and make yourselves long, sharp sticks, and then we will attack the enemy again." so the soldiers and citizens all set to work preparing long, sharp sticks, and while they were doing this, rosalie the witch had a vision in which she saw exactly what was going on inside the city wall. queen trot and cap'n bill and button-bright saw the vision, too, for they were all in the tent together, and the sight made them anxious. "what can be done?" asked the girl. "the blueskins are bigger and stronger than the pinkies, and if they have sharp sticks which are longer than ours, they will surely defeat us." "i have one magic charm," said rosalie thoughtfully, "that will save our army; but i am allowed to work only one magic charm every three days--not oftener--and perhaps i'll need the magic for other things." "strikes me, ma'am," returned the sailor, "that what we need most on this expedition is to capture the blueskins. if we don't, we'll need plenty of magic to help us back to the pink country; but if we do, we can take care of ourselves without magic." "very well," replied rosalie. "i will take your advice, cap'n, and enchant the weapons of the pinkies." she then went out and had all the pinkies come before her, one by one, and she enchanted their sharp sticks by muttering some cabalistic words and making queer passes with her hands over the weapons. "now," she said to them, "you will be powerful enough to defeat the blueskins whatever they may do." the pinkies were overjoyed at this promise, and it made them very brave indeed, since they now believed they would surely be victorious. when the boolooroo's people were armed with long, thin, lances of bluewood all sharpened to fine points at one end, they prepared to march once more against the invaders. their sticks were twice as long as those of the pinkies, and the boolooroo chuckled with glee to think what fun they would have in punching holes in the round, fat bodies of his enemies. out from the gate they marched very boldly and pressed on to attack the pinkies, who were drawn up in line of battle to receive them, with cap'n bill at their head. when the opposing forces came together, however, and the blueskins pushed their points against the pinkies, the weapons which had been enchanted by rosalie began to whirl in swift circles--so swift that the eye could scarcely follow the motion. the result was that the lances of the boolooroo's people could not touch the pinkies, but were thrust aside with violence and either broken in two or sent hurling through the air in all directions. finding themselves so suddenly disarmed, the amazed blueskins turned about and ran again, while cap'n bill, greatly excited by his victory, shouted to his followers to pursue the enemy, and hobbled after them as fast as he could make his wooden leg go, swinging his sharp stick as he advanced. the blues were in such a frightened, confused mass that they got in one another's way and could not make very good progress on the retreat, so the old sailor soon caught up with them and began jabbing at the crowd with his stick. unfortunately, the pinkies had not followed their commander, being for the moment dazed by their success, so that cap'n bill was all alone among the blueskins when he stepped his wooden leg into a hole in the ground and tumbled full length, his sharp stick flying from his hand and pricking the boolooroo in the leg as it fell. at this, the ruler of the blues stopped short in his flight to yell with terror, but seeing that only the sailorman was pursuing them and that this solitary foe had tumbled flat upon the ground, he issued a command and several of his people fell upon poor cap'n bill, seized him in their long arms, and carried him struggling into the city, where he was fast bound. then a panic fell upon the pinkies at the loss of their leader, and trot and button-bright called out in vain for them to rescue cap'n bill. by the time the army recovered their wits and prepared to obey, it was too late. and although trot ran with them in her eagerness to save her friend, the gate was found to be fast barred, and she knew it was impossible for them to force an entrance into the city. so she went sorrowfully back to the camp, followed by the pinkies, and asked rosalie what could be done. "i'm sure i do not know," replied the witch. "i cannot use another magic charm until three days have expired, but if they do not harm cap'n bill during that time, i believe i can then find a way to save him." "three days is a long time," remarked trot dismally. "the boolooroo may decide to patch him at once," added button-bright with equal sadness, for he, too, mourned the sailor's loss. "it can't be helped," replied rosalie. "i am not a fairy, my dears, but merely a witch, and so my magic powers are limited. we can only hope that the boolooroo won't patch cap'n bill for three days." when night settled down upon the camp of the pinkies, where many tents had now been pitched, all the invaders were filled with gloom. the band tried to enliven them by playing the "dead march," but it was not a success. the pinkies were despondent in spite of the fact that they had repulsed the attack of the blues, for as yet they had not succeeded in gaining the city or finding the magic umbrella, and the blue dusk of this dread country--which was so different from their own land of sunsets--made them all very nervous. they saw the moon rise for the first time in their lives, and its cold, silvery radiance made them shudder and prevented them from going to sleep. trot tried to interest them by telling them that on the earth the people had both the sun and the moon and loved them both; but nevertheless it is certain that had not the terrible fog bank stood between them and the pink land, most of the invading army would have promptly deserted and gone back home. trot couldn't sleep, either, she was so worried over cap'n bill. she went back to the tent where rosalie and button-bright were sitting in the moonlight and asked the witch if there was no way in which she could secretly get into the city of the blues and search for her friend. rosalie thought it over for some time and then replied: "we can make a rope ladder that will enable you to climb to the top of the wall and descend into the city. but if anyone should see you, you would be captured." "i'll risk that," said the child, excited at the prospect of gaining the side of cap'n bill in this adventurous way. "please make the rope ladder at once, rosalie!" so the witch took some ropes and knotted together a ladder long enough to reach the top of the wall. when it was finished, the three--rosalie, trot and button-bright--stole out into the moonlight and crept unobserved into the shadow of the wall. the blueskins were not keeping a very close watch, as they were confident the pinkies could not get into the city. the hardest part of rosalie's task was to toss up one end of the rope ladder until it would catch on some projection on top of the wall. there were few such projections, but after creeping along the wall for a distance, they saw the end of a broken flagstaff near the top edge. the witch tossed up the ladder, trying to catch it upon this point, and on the seventh attempt she succeeded. "good!" cried trot. "now i can climb up." "don't you want me to go with you?" asked button-bright a little wistfully. "no," said the girl. "you must stay to lead the army. and if you can think of a way, you must try to rescue us. perhaps i'll be able to save cap'n bill by myself; but if i don't, it's all up to you, button-bright." "i'll do my best," he promised. "and here, keep my polly till i come back," added trot, giving him the bird. "i can't take it with me, for it would be a bother, an' if it tried to spout po'try, i'd be discovered in a jiffy." as the beautiful witch kissed the little girl goodbye, she slipped upon her finger a curious ring. at once, button-bright exclaimed, "why, where has she gone?" "i'm right here," said trot's voice by his side. "can't you see me?" "no," replied the boy, mystified. rosalie laughed. "it's a magic ring i've loaned you, my dear," said she, "and as long as you wear it, you will be invisible to all eyes, those of blueskins and pinkies alike. i'm going to let you wear this wonderful ring, for it will save you from being discovered by your enemies. if at any time you wish to be seen, take the ring from your finger; but as long as you wear it, no one can see you, not even earth people." "oh, thank you!" cried trot. "that will be fine." "i see you have another ring on your hand," said rosalie, "and i perceive it is enchanted in some way. where did you get it?" "the queen of the mermaids gave it to me," answered trot. "but sky island is so far away from the sea that the ring won't do me any good while i'm here. it's only to call the mermaids to me if i need them, and they can't swim in the sky, you see." rosalie smiled and kissed her again. "be brave, my dear," she said, "and i am sure you will be able to find cap'n bill without getting in danger yourself. but be careful not to let any blueskin touch you, for while you are in contact with any person you will become visible. keep out of their way, and you will be perfectly safe. don't lose the ring, for you must give it back to me when you return. it is one of my witchcraft treasures, and i need it in my business." the trot climbed the ladder, although neither button-bright nor rosalie could see her do so, and when she was on top the broad wall she pulled up the knotted ropes and began to search for a place to let it down on the other side. a little way off she found a bluestone seat near to the inner edge, and attaching the ladder to this, she easily descended it and found herself in the blue city. a guard was pacing up and down near her, but as he could not see the girl, he of course paid no attention to her. so after marking the place where the ladder hung that she might know how to reach it again, trot hurried away through the streets of the city. trot's invisible adventure chapter 22 all the blueskins except a few soldiers had gone to bed and were sound asleep. a blue gloom hung over the city, which was scarcely relieved by a few bluish, wavering lights here and there, but trot knew the general direction in which the palace lay, and she decided to go there first. she believed the boolooroo would surely keep so important a prisoner as cap'n bill locked up in his own palace. once or twice the little girl lost her way, for the streets were very puzzling to one not accustomed to them, but finally she sighted the great palace and went up to the entrance. there she found a double guard posted. they were sitting on a bench outside the doorway, and both stood up as she approached. "we thought we heard footsteps," said one. "so did we," replied the other, "yet there is no one in sight." trot then saw that the guards were the two patched men, jimfred jonesjinks and fredjim jinksjones, who had been talking together quite cheerfully. it was the first time the girl had seen them together, and she marveled at the queer patching that had been so strongly united here, yet so thoroughly separated them. "you see," remarked jimfred as they seated themselves again upon the bench, "the boolooroo has ordered the patching to take place tomorrow morning after breakfast. the old earth man is to be patched to poor tiggle instead of ghip-ghisizzle, who has in some way managed to escape from the room of the great knife--no one knows how but tiggle, and tiggle won't tell." "we're sorry for anyone who has to be patched," replied fredjim in a reflective tone, "for although it didn't hurt us as much as we expected, it's a terrible mix-up to be in until we become used to our strange combination. you and we are about alike, now, jimfred, although we were so different before." "not so," said jimfred. "we are really more intelligent than you are, for the left side of our brain was always the keenest before we were patched." "that may be," admitted fredjim, "but we are much the strongest, because our right arm was by far the best before we were patched." "we are not sure of that," responded jimfred, "for we have a right arm, too, and it is pretty strong." "we will test it," suggested the other, "by all pulling upon one end of this bench with our right arms. whichever can pull the bench from the others must be the strongest." while they were tussling at the bench, dragging it first here and then there in the trial of strength, trot opened the door of the palace and walked in. it was pretty dark in the hall, and only a few dim blue lights showed at intervals down the long corridors. as the girl walked through these passages, she could hear snores of various degrees coming from behind some of the closed doors and knew that all the regular inmates of the place were sound asleep. so she mounted to the upper floor, and thinking she would be likely to find cap'n bill in the room of the great knife, she went there and tried the door. it was locked, but the key had been left on the outside. she waited until the sentry who was pacing the corridor had his back toward her, and then she turned the key and slipped within, softly closing the door behind her. it was pitch dark in the room, and trot didn't know how to make a light. after a moment's thought she began feeling her way to the window, stumbling over objects as she went. every time she made a noise, someone groaned, and that made the child uneasy. at last she found a window and managed to open the shutters and let the moonlight in. it wasn't a very strong moonlight, but it enabled her to examine the interior of the room. in the center stood the great knife, which the boolooroo used to split people in two when he patched them, and at one side was a dark form huddled upon the floor and securely bound. trot hastened to this form and knelt beside it, but was disappointed to find it was only tiggle. the man stirred a little and rolled against trot's knee, when she at once became visible to him. "oh, it's the earth child," said he. "are you condemned to be patched, too, little one?" "no," answered trot. "tell me where cap'n bill is." "i can't," said tiggle. "the boolooroo has hidden him until tomorrow morning, when he's to be patched to me. ghip-ghisizzle was to have been my mate, but ghip escaped, being carried away by the six snubnosed princesses." "why?" she asked. "one of them means to marry him," explained tiggle. "oh, that's worse than being patched!" cried trot. "much worse," said tiggle with a groan. but now an idea occurred to the girl. "would you like to escape?" she asked the captive. "if i get you out of the palace, can you hide yourself so that you won't be found?" "certainly!" he declared. "i know a house where i can hide so snugly that all the boolooroo's soldiers cannot find me." "all right," said trot. "i'll do it, for when you're gone, the boolooroo will have no one to patch cap'n bill to." "he may find someone else," suggested the prisoner. "but it will take him time to do that, and time is all i want," answered the child. even while she spoke, trot was busy with the knots in the cords, and presently she had unbound tiggle, who soon got upon his feet. "now i'll go to one end of the passage and make a noise," said she, "and when the guard runs to see what it is, you must run the other way. outside the palace, jimfred and fredjim are on guard, but if you tip over the bench they are seated on, you can easily escape them." "i'll do that, all right," promised the delighted tiggle. "you've made a friend of me, little girl, and if ever i can help you, i'll do it with pleasure." then trot started for the door, and tiggle could no longer see her because she was not now touching him. the man was much surprised at her disappearance, but listened carefully, and when he heard the girl make a noise at one end of the corridor, he opened the door and ran in the opposite direction as he had been told to do. of course, the guard could not discover what made the noise, and trot ran little risk, as she was careful not to let him touch her. when tiggle had escaped, the little girl wandered through the palace in search of cap'n bill, but soon decided such a quest in the dark was likely to fail and she must wait until morning. she was tired, too, and thought she would find a vacant room--of which there were many in the big palace--and go to sleep until daylight. she remembered there was a comfortable vacant room just opposite the suite of the six snubnosed princesses, so she stole softly up to it and tried the door. it was locked, but the key was outside, as the blueskins seldom took a door key from its place. so she turned the key, opened the door, and walked in. now this was the chamber in which ghip-ghisizzle had been confined by the princesses, his arms being bound tight to his body, but his legs left free. the boolooroo in his search had failed to discover what had become of ghip ghisizzle, but the poor man had been worried every minute for fear his retreat would be discovered or that the terrible princesses would come for him and nag him until he went crazy. there was one window in his room, and the prisoner had managed to push open the sash with his knees. looking out, he found that a few feet below the window was the broad wall that ran all around the palace gardens. a little way to the right the wall joined the wall of the city, being on the same level with it. ghip-ghisizzle had been thinking deeply upon this discovery, and he decided that if anyone entered his room, he would get through the window, leap down upon the wall, and try in this way to escape. it would be a dangerous leap, for as his arms were bound, he might topple off the wall into the garden; but he resolved to take this chance. therefore, when trot rattled at the door of his room, ghip-ghisizzle ran and seated himself upon the window sill, dangling his long legs over the edge. when she finally opened the door, he slipped off and let himself fall to the wall, where he doubled up in a heap. the next minute, however, he had scrambled to his knees and was running swiftly along the garden wall. trot, finding the window open, came and looked out, and she saw the majordomo's tall form hastening along the top of the wall. the guards saw him, too, outlined against the sky in the moonlight, and they began yelling at him to stop, but ghip-ghisizzle kept right on until he reached the city wall, when he began to follow that. more guards were yelling now, running along the foot of the wall to keep the fugitive in sight, and people began to pour out of the houses and join in the chase. poor ghip realized that if he kept on the wall, he would merely circle the city and finally be caught. if he leaped down into the city, he would be seized at once. just then he came opposite the camp of the pinkies and decided to trust himself to the mercies of his earth friends rather than be made a prisoner by his own people, who would obey the commands of their detested but greatly feared boolooroo. so suddenly he gave a mighty leap and came down into the field outside the city. again he fell in a heap and rolled over and over, for it was a high wall and the jump a dangerous one; but finally he recovered and got upon his feet, delighted to find he had broken none of his bones. some of the blueskins had by now opened a gate, and out rushed a crowd to capture the fugitive; but ghip-ghisizzle made straight for the camp of the pinkies, and his pursuers did not dare follow him far in that direction. they soon gave up the chase and returned to the city, while the runaway majordomo was captured by captain coralie and marched away to the tent of rosalie the witch, a prisoner of the pinkies. the girl and the boolooroo chapter 23 trot watched from the window the escape of ghip-ghisizzle but did not know, of course, who it was. then, after the city had quieted down again, she lay upon the bed without undressing and was sound asleep in a minute. the blue dawn was just breaking when she opened her eyes with a start of fear that she might have overslept, but soon she found that no one else in the palace was yet astir. even the guards had gone to sleep by this time and were adding their snores to the snores of the other inhabitants of the royal palace. so the little girl got up and, finding a ewer of water and a basin upon the dresser, washed herself carefully and then looked in a big mirror to see how her hair was. to her astonishment, there was no reflection at all; the mirror was blank so far as trot was concerned. she laughed a little at that, remembering she wore the ring of rosalie the witch, which rendered her invisible. then she slipped quietly out of the room and found it was already light enough in the corridors for her to see all objects distinctly. after hesitating a moment which way to turn, she decided to visit the snubnosed princesses and passed through the big reception room to the sleeping room of indigo. there this princess, the crossest and most disagreeable of all the disagreeable six, was curled up in bed and slumbering cozily. the little blue dog came trotting out of indigo's boudoir and crowed like a rooster, for although he could not see trot, his keen little nose scented her presence. thinking it time the princess awoke, trot leaned over and gave her snub nose a good tweak, and at once indigo sprang out of her bed and rushed into the chamber of cobalt, which adjoined her own. thinking it was this sister who had slyly attacked her, indigo rushed at the sleeping cobalt and slapped her face. at once there was war. the other four princesses, hearing the screams and cries of rage, came running into cobalt's room, and as fast as they appeared, trot threw pillows at them, so that presently all six were indulging in a free-for-all battle and snarling like tigers. the blue lamb came trotting into the room, and trot leaned over and patted the pretty little animal, but as she did so, she became visible for an instant, each pat destroying the charm of the ring while the girl was in contact with a living creature. these flashes permitted some of the princesses to see her, and at once they rushed toward her with furious cries. but the girl realized what had happened, and leaving the lamb, she stepped back into a corner and her frenzied enemies failed to find her. it was a little dangerous, though, remaining in a room where six girls were feeling all around for her, so she went away and left them to their vain search while she renewed her hunt for cap'n bill. the sailorman did not seem to be in any of the rooms she entered, so she decided to visit the boolooroo's own apartments. in the room where rosalie's vision had shown them the magic umbrella lying under a cabinet, trot attempted to find it, for she considered that next to rescuing cap'n bill this was the most important task to accomplish; but the umbrella had been taken away and was no longer beneath the cabinet. this was a severe disappointment to the child, but she reflected that the umbrella was surely someplace in the blue city, so there was no need to despair. finally, she entered the king's own sleeping chamber and found the boolooroo in bed and asleep, with a funny nightcap tied over his egg-shaped head. as trot looked at him, she was surprised to see that he had one foot out of bed and that to his big toe was tied a cord that led out of the bedchamber into a small dressing room beyond. trot slowly followed this cord and in the dressing room came upon cap'n bill, who was lying asleep upon a lounge and snoring with great vigor. his arms were tied to his body, and his body was tied fast to the lounge. the wooden leg stuck out into the room at an angle, and the shoe on his one foot had been removed so that the end of the cord could be fastened to the sailor's big toe. this arrangement had been a clever thought of the boolooroo. fearing his important prisoner might escape before he was patched as ghip-ghisizzle had done, the cruel king of the blues had kept cap'n bill in his private apartments and had tied his own big toe to the prisoner's big toe, so that if the sailor made any attempt to get away, he would pull on the cord, and that would arouse the boolooroo. trot saw through this cunning scheme at once, so the first thing she did was to untie the cord from cap'n bill's big toe and retie it to the leg of the lounge. then she unfastened her friend's hands and leaned over to give his leathery face a smacking kiss. cap'n bill sat up and rubbed his eyes. he looked around the room and rubbed his eyes again, seeing no one who could have kissed him. then he discovered that his bonds had been removed, and he rubbed his eyes once more to make sure he was not dreaming. the little girl laughed softly. "trot!" exclaimed the sailor, recognizing her voice. then trot came up and took his hand, the touch at once rendering her visible to him. "dear me!" said the bewildered sailor. "however did you get here, mate, in the boolooroo's own den? is the blue city captured?" "not yet," she replied, "but you are, cap'n, and i've come to save you." "all alone, trot?" "all alone, cap'n bill. but it's got to be done, jus' the same." and then she explained about the magic ring rosalie had lent her, which rendered her invisible while she wore it--unless she touched some living creature. cap'n bill was much interested. "i'm willing to be saved, mate," he said, "for the boolooroo is set on patchin' me right after breakfas', which i hope the cook'll be late with." "who are you to be patched to?" she asked. "a feller named tiggle, who's in disgrace 'cause he mixed the royal necktie for me." "that was nectar, not necktie," corrected trot. "but you needn't be 'fraid of bein' patched with tiggle, 'cause i've set him loose. by this time he's in hiding, where he can't be found." "that's good," said cap'n bill, nodding approval, "but the blamed ol' boolooroo's sure to find someone else. what's to be done, mate?" trot thought about it for a moment. then she remembered how some unknown man had escaped from the palace the night before by means of the wall, which he had reached from the window of the very chamber in which she had slept. cap'n bill might easily do the same. and the rope ladder she had used would help the sailor down from the top of the wall. "could you climb down a rope ladder, cap'n?" she asked. "like enough," said he. "i've done it many a time on shipboard." "but you hadn't a wooden leg then," she reminded him. "the wooden leg won't bother much," he assured her. so trot tied a small sofa cushion around the end of his wooden leg so it wouldn't make any noise pounding upon the floor, and then she quietly led the sailor through the room of the sleeping boolooroo and through several other rooms until they came to the passage. here a soldier was on guard, but he had fallen asleep for a moment in order to rest himself. they passed the blueskin without disturbing him and soon reached the chamber opposite the suite of the six snubnosed princesses, whom they could hear still quarreling loudly among themselves. trot locked the door from the inside so no one could disturb them, and then led the sailor to the window. the garden was just below. "but good gracious me! it's a drop o' ten feet, trot," he exclaimed. "and you've only one foot to drop, cap'n," she said, laughing. "couldn't you let yourself down with one of the sheets from the bed?" "i'll try," he rejoined. "but can you do that circus act, trot?" "oh, i'm goin' to stay here an' find the magic umbrella," she replied. "bein' invis'ble, cap'n, i'm safe enough. what i want to do is to see you safe back with the pinkies, an' then i'll manage to hold my own all right, never fear." so they brought a blue sheet and tied one end to a post of the blue bed and let the other end dangle out the blue window. "goodbye, mate," said cap'n bill, preparing to descend. "don't get reckless." "i won't, cap'n. don't worry." then he grasped the sheet with both hands and easily let himself down to the wall. trot had told him where to find the rope ladder she had left and how to fasten it to the broken flagstaff so he could climb down into the field outside the city. as soon as he was safe on the wall, cap'n bill began to hobble along the broad top toward the connecting wall that surrounded the entire city--just as ghip-ghisizzle had done--and trot anxiously watched him from the window. but the blue city was now beginning to waken to life. one of the soldiers came from a house, sleepily yawning and stretching himself, and presently his eyes lit upon the huge form of cap'n bill hastening along the top of the wall. the soldier gave a yell that aroused a score of his comrades and brought them tumbling into the street. when they saw how the boolooroo's precious prisoner was escaping, they instantly became alert and wide-awake, and every one started in pursuit along the foot of the wall. of course, the long-legged blueskins could run faster than poor cap'n bill. some of them soon got ahead of the old sailorman and came to the rope ladder which trot had left dangling from the stone bench, where it hung down inside the city. the blue soldiers promptly mounted this ladder and so gained the wall, heading off the fugitive. when cap'n bill came up, panting and all out of breath, the blueskins seized him and held him fast. cap'n bill was terribly disappointed at being recaptured, and so was trot, who had eagerly followed his every movement from her window in the palace. the little girl would have cried with vexation, and i think she did weep a few tears before she recovered her courage; but cap'n bill was a philosopher, in his way, and had learned to accept ill fortune cheerfully. knowing he was helpless, he made no protest when they again bound him and carried him down the ladder like a bale of goods. others were also disappointed by his capture. button-bright had heard the parrot squawking, "oh, there's cap'n bill! there's cap'n bill! i see him still, up on that hill! it's cap'n bill!" so the boy ran out of his tent to find the sailor scurrying along the top of the wall as fast as he could go. at once button-bright aroused coralie, who got her pinkies together and quickly marched them toward the wall to assist in the escape of her commander in chief. but they were too late. before they could reach the wall, the blueskins had captured trot's old friend and lugged him down in to the city, so coralie and button-bright were forced to return to their camp discomfited. there ghip-ghisizzle and rosalie were awaiting them, and they all went into the witch's tent and held a council of war. "tell me," said ghip-ghisizzle, "did you not take the royal record book from the treasure chamber of the boolooroo?" "i did," replied the boy. "i remember that you wanted it, and so i have kept it with me ever since that night. here it is." and he presented the little blue book to the majordomo, the only friend the adventurers had found among all the blueskins. ghip-ghisizzle took the book eagerly and at once began turning over its leaves. "ah!" he exclaimed presently. "it is just as i suspected. the wicked boolooroo had already reigned over the blue country three hundred years last thursday, so that now he has no right to rule at all. i myself have been the rightful ruler of the blues since thursday, and yet this cruel and deceitful man has not only deprived me of my right to succeed him, but he has tried to have me patched so that i could never become the boolooroo." "does the book tell how old he is?" asked button-bright. "yes. he is not five hundred years old, and has yet another hundred years to live. he planned to rule the blue country until the last, but i now know the deception he has practiced and have the royal record book to prove it. with this i shall be able to force him to resign that i may take his place, for all the people will support me and abide by the law. the tyrant will perhaps fight me and my cause desperately, but i am sure to win in the end." "if we can help you," said button-bright, "the whole pink army will fight for you. only, if you win, you must promise to give me back my magic umbrella and let us fly away to our own homes again." "i will do that most willingly," agreed ghip-ghisizzle. "and now let us consult together how best to take the blue city and capture the boolooroo. as i know my own country much better than you or the pinkies do, i think i can find a way to accomplish our purpose." the amazing conquest of the blues chapter 24 the shouting and excitement in the city following upon the recapture of cap'n bill aroused the sleeping boolooroo. he found the cord still tied to his big toe and at first imagined his prisoner safe in the dressing room. while he put on his clothes, the king occasionally gave the cord a sudden pull, hoping to hurt cap'n bill's big toe and make him yell; but as no response came to this mean action, the boolooroo finally looked into the room only to find he had been pulling on a leg of the couch and that his prisoner had escaped. then he flew into a mighty rage, and running out into the hall he aimed a blow at the unfaithful guard, knocking the fellow off his feet. then he rushed downstairs into the courtyard, shouting loudly for his soldiers and threatening to patch everybody in his dominions if the sailorman was not recaptured. while the boolooroo stormed and raged, a band of soldiers and citizens came marching in, surrounding cap'n bill, who was again firmly bound. "so-ho!" roared the monarch. "you thought you could defy me, earth clod, did you? but you were mistaken. no one can resist the mighty boolooroo of the blues, so it is folly for you to rebel against my commands. hold him fast, my men, and as soon as i've had my coffee and oatmeal i'll take him to the room of the great knife and patch him." "i wouldn't mind a cup o' coffee myself," said cap'n bill. "i've had consid'ble exercise this mornin', and i'm all ready for breakfas'." "very well," replied the boolooroo, "you shall eat with me, for then i can keep an eye on you. my guards are not to be trusted, and i don't mean to let you out of my sight again until you are patched." so cap'n bill and the boolooroo had breakfast together, six blueskins standing in a row back of the sailorman to grab him if he attempted to escape. but cap'n bill made no such attempt, knowing it would be useless. trot was in the room, too, standing in a corner and listening to all that was said while she racked her little brain for an idea that would enable her to save cap'n bill from being patched. no one could see her, so no one--not even cap'n bill--knew she was there. after breakfast was over, a procession was formed, headed by the boolooroo, and they marched the prisoner through the palace until they came to the room of the great knife. invisible trot followed soberly after them, still wondering what she could do to save her friend. as soon as they entered the room of the great knife, the boolooroo gave a yell of disappointment. "what's become of tiggle?" he shouted. "where's tiggle? who has released tiggle? go at once, you dummies, and find him, or it will go hard with you!" the frightened soldiers hurried away to find tiggle, and trot was well pleased because she knew tiggle was by this time safely hidden. the boolooroo stamped up and down the room, muttering threats and declaring cap'n bill should be punished whether tiggle was found or not, and while they waited, trot took time to make an inspection of the place, which she now saw for the first time in broad daylight. the room of the great knife was high and big, and around it ran rows of benches for the spectators to sit upon. in one place at the head of the room was a raised platform for the royal family, with elegant throne-chairs for the king and queen and six smaller but richly upholstered chairs for the snubnosed princesses. the poor queen, by the way, was seldom seen, as she passed all her time playing solitaire with a deck that was one card short, hoping that before she had lived her entire six hundred years she would win the game. therefore, her majesty paid no attention to anyone and no one paid any attention to her. in the center of the room stood the terrible knife that gave the place its name, a name dreaded by every inhabitant of the blue city. the knife was built into a huge framework like a derrick, that reached to the ceiling, and it was so arranged that when the boolooroo pulled a cord the great blade would drop down in its frame and neatly cut in two the person who stood under it. and in order that the slicing would be accurate, there was another frame to which the prisoner was tied so that he couldn't wiggle either way. this frame was on rollers so that it could be placed directly underneath the knife. while trot was observing this dreadful machine, the door opened and in walked the six snubnosed princesses, all in a row and with their chins up as if they disdained everyone but themselves. they were magnificently dressed, and their blue hair was carefully arranged in huge towers upon their heads, with blue plumes stuck into the tops. these plumes waved gracefully in the air with every mincing step the princesses took. rich jewels of blue stones glittered upon their persons, and the royal ladies were fully as gorgeous as they were haughty and overbearing. they marched to their chairs and seated themselves to enjoy the cruel scene their father was about to enact, and cap'n bill bowed to them politely and said: "mornin', girls. hope ye feel as well as ye look." "papa," exclaimed turquoise angrily, "can you not prevent this vile earth being from addressing us? it is an insult to be spoken to by one about to be patched." "control yourselves, my dears," replied the boolooroo. "the worst punishment i know how to inflict on anyone this prisoner is about to suffer. you'll see a very pretty patching, my royal daughters." "when?" inquired cobalt. "when? as soon as the soldiers return with tiggle," said he. but just then in came the soldiers to say that tiggle could not be found anywhere in the city; he had disappeared as mysteriously as had ghip-ghisizzle. immediately, the boolooroo flew into another towering rage. "villains!" he shouted. "go out and arrest the first living thing you meet, and whoever it proves to be will be instantly patched to cap'n bill." the captain of the guards hesitated to obey this order. "suppose it's a friend?" he suggested. "friend!" roared the boolooroo. "i haven't a friend in the country. tell me, sir, do you know of anyone who is my friend?" the captain shook his head. "i can't think of anyone just now, your spry and flighty high and mighty majesty," he answered. "of course not," said the boolooroo. "everyone hates me, and i don't object to that because i hate everybody. but i'm the ruler here, and i'll do as i please. go and capture the first living creature you see and bring him here to be patched to cap'n bill." so the captain took a file of soldiers and went away very sorrowful, for he did not know who would be the victim, and if the boolooroo had no friends, the captain had plenty and did not wish to see them patched. meanwhile, trot, being invisible to all, was roaming around the room, and behind a bench she found a small end of rope, which she picked up. then she seated herself in an out-of-the-way place and quietly waited. suddenly there was a noise in the corridor and evidence of scuffling and struggling. then the door flew open and in came the soldiers dragging a great blue billygoat, which was desperately striving to get free. "villains!" howled the boolooroo. "what does this mean?" "why, you said to fetch the first living creature we met, and that was this billygoat," replied the captain, panting hard as he held fast to one of the goat's horns. the boolooroo stared a moment, and then he fell back to his throne, laughing boisterously. the idea of patching cap'n bill to a goat was vastly amusing to him, and the more he thought of it the more he roared with laughter. some of the soldiers laughed, too, being tickled with the absurd notion, and the six snubnosed princesses all sat up straight and permitted themselves to smile contemptuously. this would indeed be a severe punishment, therefore the princesses were pleased at the thought of cap'n bill's becoming half a billygoat, and the billygoat's being half cap'n bill. "they look something alike, you know," suggested the captain of the guards, looking from one to the other doubtfully, "and they're nearly the same size if you stand the goat on his hind legs. they've both got the same style of whiskers, and they're both of 'em obstinate and dangerous, so they ought to make a good patch." "splendid! fine! glorious!" cried the boolooroo, wiping the tears of merriment from his eyes. "we will proceed with the ceremony of patching at once." cap'n bill regarded the billygoat with distinct disfavor, and the billygoat glared evilly upon cap'n bill. trot was horrified, and wrung her little hands in sore perplexity, for this was a most horrible fate that awaited her dear friend. "first, bind the earth man in the frame," commanded the boolooroo. "we'll slice him in two before we do the same to the billygoat." so they seized cap'n bill and tied him into the frame so that he couldn't move a jot in any direction. then they rolled the frame underneath the great knife and handed the boolooroo the cord that released the blade. but while this was going on, trot had crept up and fastened one end of her rope to the frame in which cap'n bill was confined. then she stood back and watched the boolooroo, and just as he pulled the cord, she pulled on her rope and dragged the frame on its rollers away, so that the great knife fell with a crash and sliced nothing but the air. "huh!" exclaimed the boolooroo. "that's queer. roll him up again, soldiers." the soldiers again rolled the frame in position, having first pulled the great knife once more to the top of the derrick. the immense blade was so heavy that it took the strength of seven blueskins to raise it. when all was in readiness, the king pulled the cord a second time, and trot at the same instant pulled upon her rope. the same thing happened as before. cap'n bill rolled away in his frame, and the knife fell harmlessly. now, indeed, the boolooroo was as angry as he was amazed. he jumped down from the platform and commanded the soldiers to raise the great knife into position. when this was accomplished, the boolooroo leaned over to try to discover why the frame rolled away--seemingly of its own accord--and he was the more puzzled because it had never done such a thing before. as he stood, bent nearly double, his back was toward the billygoat, which in their interest and excitement the soldiers were holding in a careless manner. before any could stop him, he butted his majesty so furiously that the king soared far into the air and tumbled in a heap among the benches, where he lay moaning and groaning. the goat's warlike spirit was roused by this successful attack. finding himself free, he turned and assaulted the soldiers, butting them so fiercely that they tumbled down in bunches, and as soon as they could rise again ran frantically from the room and along the corridors as if a fiend was after them. by this time the goat was so animated by the spirit of conquest that he rushed at the six snubnosed princesses, who had all climbed upon their chairs and were screaming in a panic of fear. six times the goat butted, and each time he tipped over a chair and sent a haughty princess groveling upon the floor, where the ladies got mixed up in their long, blue trains and flounces and laces and struggled wildly until they recovered their footing. then they sped in great haste for the door, and the goat gave a final butt that sent the row of royal ladies all diving into the corridor in another tangle, whereupon they shrieked in a manner that terrified everyone within sound of their voices. as the room of the great knife was now cleared of all but cap'n bill, who was tied in his frame, and of trot and the moaning boolooroo, who lay hidden behind the benches, the goat gave a victorious bleat and stood in the doorway to face any enemy that might appear. trot had been as surprised as anyone at this sudden change of conditions, but she was quick to take advantage of the opportunities it afforded. first she ran with her rope to the goat, and as the animal could not see her, she easily succeeded in tying the rope around its horns and fastening the loose end to a pillar of the doorway. next she hurried to cap'n bill and began to unbind him, and as she touched the sailor she became visible. he nodded cheerfully, then, and said, "i had a notion it was you, mate, as saved me from the knife. but it were a pretty close call, an' i hope it won't happen again. i couldn't shiver much, bein' bound so tight, but when i'm loose i mean to have jus' one good shiver to relieve my feelin's." "shiver all you want to, cap'n," she said as she removed the last bonds. "but first you've got to help me save us both." "as how?" he asked, stepping from the frame. "come and get the boolooroo," she said, going toward the benches. the sailor followed and pulled out the boolooroo, who, when he saw the terrible goat was captured and tied fast, quickly recovered his courage. "hi, there!" he cried. "where are my soldiers? what do you mean, prisoner, by daring to lay hands upon me? let me go this minute or i'll--i'll have you patched twice!" "don't mind him, cap'n," said trot, "but fetch him along to the frame." the boolooroo looked around to see where the voice came from, and cap'n bill grinned joyfully and caught up the king in both his strong arms, dragging the struggling monarch of the blues to the frame. "stop it! how dare you?" roared the frightened boolooroo. "i'll have revenge! i'll--i'll--" "you'll take it easy, 'cause you can't help yourself," said cap'n bill. "what next, queen trot?" "hold him steady in the frame, and i'll tie him up," she replied. so cap'n bill held the boolooroo, and the girl tied him fast in position as cap'n bill had been tied, so that his majesty couldn't wiggle at all. then they rolled the frame in position underneath the great knife and trot held in her hand the cord which would release it. "all right, cap'n," she said in a satisfied tone. "i guess we can run this blue country ourselves after this." the boolooroo was terrified to find himself in danger of being sliced by the same knife he had so often wickedly employed to slice others. like cap'n bill, he had no room to shiver, but he groaned very dismally and was so full of fear that his blue hair nearly stood on end. the ruler of sky island chapter 25 the girl now took off rosalie's ring and put it carefully away in her pocket. "it won't matter who sees me now," she remarked, "an' i want 'em to know that you an' me, cap'n, are running this kingdom. i'm queen o' the pinkies an' booloorooess o' the blues, an'--" "what's that?" asked the sailor. "you're--you're what, trot?" "booloorooess. isn't that right, cap'n?" "i dunno, mate. it sounds bigger ner you are, an' i don't like the word, anyhow. s'pose you jus' call yourself the boss? that fills the bill an' don't need pernouncin'." "all right," she said. "queen o' the pinkies an' boss o' the blues. seems funny, don't it, cap'n bill?" just then they heard a sound of footsteps in the corridor. the soldiers had recovered their courage, and fearful of the anger of their dreaded boolooroo, whom the princesses declared would punish them severely, had ventured to return to the room. they came rather haltingly, though, and the captain of the guards first put his head cautiously through the doorway to see if the coast was clear. the goat discovered him and tried to make a rush, but the rope held the animal back, and when the captain saw this, he came forward more boldly. "halt!" cried trot. the captain halted, his soldiers peering curiously over his shoulders and the six snubnosed princesses looking on from behind, where they considered themselves safe. "if anyone dares enter this room without my permission," said trot, "i'll pull this cord and slice your master that once was the boolooroo." "don't come in! don't come in!" yelled the boolooroo in a terrified voice. then they saw that the sailor was free and the boolooroo bound in his place. the soldiers were secretly glad to observe this, but the princesses were highly indignant. "release his majesty at once!" cried indigo from the corridor. "you shall be severely punished for this rebellion." "don't worry," replied trot. "his majesty isn't his majesty any longer. he's jus' a common blueskin. cap'n bill and i perpose runnin' this island ourselves, after this. you've all got to obey me, for i'm the booloorooess--no, i mean the boss--o' the blues, and i've a notion to run things my own way." "you can't," said turquoise scornfully. "the law says--" "bother the law!" exclaimed trot. "i'll make the laws myself from now on, and i'll unmake every law you ever had before i conquered you." "oh, have you conquered us, then?" asked the captain of the guards in a surprised tone. "of course," said trot. "can't you see?" "it looks like it," admitted the captain. "cap'n bill is goin' to be my general o' the army an' the royal manager o' the blue country," continued trot, "so you'll mind what he says." "nonsense!" shouted indigo. "march in and capture them, captain! never mind if they do slice the boolooroo. i'm his daughter, and i'll rule the kingdom." "you won't!" screamed cobalt. "i'll rule it!" "i'll rule it myself!" cried cerulia. "no, no!" yelled turquoise. "i'll be the ruler." "that shall be my privilege!" shouted sapphire. cobalt began to say, "i'm the--" "be quiet!" said trot sternly. "would you have your own father sliced so that you could rule in his place?" "yes, yes, of course!" rejoined the six princesses without a second's hesitation. "well, well! what d' ye think o' that, mr. boolooroo?" asked cap'n bill. "they're undutiful daughters. don't pay any attention to them," replied the frightened boolooroo. "we're not goin' to," said trot. "now, you blue cap'n, who are you and your soldiers going to obey, me or the snubnosed ones?" "you!" declared the captain of the guards positively, for he hated the princesses, as did all the blueskins. "then escort those girls to their rooms, lock 'em in, an' put a guard before the door." at once the soldiers seized the princesses and notwithstanding their snarls and struggles marched them to their rooms and locked them in. while they were gone on this errand, the boolooroo begged to be released, whining and wailing for fear the knife would fall upon him. but trot did not think it safe to unbind him just then. when the soldiers returned, she told their leader to put a strong guard before the palace and to admit no one unless either she or cap'n bill gave the order to do so. the soldiers obeyed readily, and when trot and cap'n bill were left alone, they turned the goat loose in the room of the great knife and then locked the animal in with the boolooroo. "the billygoat is the very best guard we could have, for ever'body's 'fraid o' him," remarked cap'n bill as he put the key of the room in his pocket. "so now, queen trot, what's next on the program?" "next," said trot, "we're goin' to hunt for that umbrel, cap'n. i don't mean to stay in this dismal blue country long, even if i am the queen. let's find the umbrel and go home as soon as we can." "that suits me," the sailor joyfully exclaimed, and then the two began a careful search through the palace. they went into every room and looked behind the furniture and underneath the beds and in every crack and corner, but no place could they spy the magic umbrella. cap'n bill even ventured to enter the rooms of the six snubnosed princesses, who were by this time so thoroughly alarmed that they had become meek and mild as could be. but the umbrella wasn't there, either. finally, they returned to the great throne room of the palace, where they seated themselves on the throne and tried to think what could possibly have become of the precious umbrella. while they were sitting and talking together, the captain of the guards entered and bowed respectfully. "beg pardon, your small-sized majesty," said he to trot, "but it is my duty to report that the pinkies are preparing to attack the city." "oh! i'd forgotten the pinkies!" exclaimed the girl. "tell me, captain, have you such a thing as a brass band in this city?" "we have two fine bands, but they are not brass," replied the captain. "their instruments are made of blue metal." "well, order 'em out," commanded trot. "and say, get all the soldiers together and tell all the people there's going to be a high time in the blue city tonight. we'll have music and dancing and eating and--" "an' neckties to drink, trot. don't forget the royal neckties," urged cap'n bill. "we'll have all the fun there is going," continued the girl, "for we are to entertain the army of the pinkies." "the pinkies!" exclaimed the captain of the guards. "why, they're our enemies, your short highness." "not any more," replied trot. "i'm queen of the pinkies, an' i'm also queen of the blues, so i won't have my people quarreling. tell the blue people we are to throw open the gates and welcome the pinkies to the city, where everybody will join in a grand celebration. and jus' as soon as you've spread the news an' got the bands tuned up and the soldiers ready to march, you let us know, and we'll head the procession." "your microscopic majesty shall be obeyed," said the captain, and went away to carry out these commands. trot celebrates the victory chapter 26 the blue people were by this time dazed with wonder at all the events that had transpired that eventful day, but they still had wit enough to be glad the war was over, for in war someone is likely to get hurt, and it is foolish to take such chances when one can remain quietly at home. the blues did not especially admire the pinkies, but it was easier to entertain them than to fight them, and above all, the blueskins were greatly rejoiced that their wicked boolooroo had been conquered and could no longer abuse them. so they were quite willing to obey the orders of their girl queen and in a short time the blasts of trumpets and roll of drums and clashing of cymbals told trot and cap'n bill that the blue bands had assembled before the palace. so they went down and found that a great crowd of people had gathered, and these cheered trot with much enthusiasm--which was very different from the scowls and surly looks with which they had formerly greeted their strange visitors from the earth. the soldiers wore their best blue uniforms and were formed before the palace in marching order, so trot and cap'n bill headed the procession, and then came the soldiers--all keeping step--and then the bands, playing very loud noises on their instruments, and finally the crowd of blue citizens waving flags and banners and shouting joyfully. in this order they proceeded to the main gate, which trot ordered the guards to throw wide open. then they all marched out a little way into the fields and found that the army of pinkies had already formed and was advancing steadily toward them. at the head of the pinkies were ghip-ghisizzle and button-bright, who had the parrot on his shoulder, and they were supported by captain coralie and captain tintint and rosalie the witch. they had decided to capture the blue city at all hazards, that they might rescue trot and cap'n bill and conquer the boolooroo, so when from a distance they saw the blueskins march from the gate with banners flying and bands playing, they supposed a most terrible fight was about to take place. however, as the two forces came nearer together, button-bright spied trot and cap'n bill standing before the enemy, and the sight astonished him considerably. "welcome, friends!" shouted cap'n bill in a loud voice; and "welcome!" cried trot; and "welcome!" roared the blue soldiers and the people of the blue city. "hooray!" yelled the parrot, "welcome to our happy home from which no longer will we roam!" and then he flapped his wings and barked like a dog with pure delight, and added as fast as his bird's tongue could speak, "one army's pink and one is blue, but neither one is in a stew because the naughty boolooroo is out of sight, so what we'll do is try to be a jolly crew and dance and sing our too-ral-loo and to our friends be ever true and to our foes--" "stop it!" said button-bright, "i can't hear myself think." the pinkies were amazed at the strange reception of the blues and hesitated to advance, but trot now ran up in front of them and made a little speech. "pinkies," said she, "your queen has conquered the boolooroo and is now the queen of the blues. all of sky island except the fog bank is now my kingdom, so i welcome my faithful pinkies to my blue city, where you are to be royally entertained and have a good time. the war is over an' ever'body must be sociable an' happy or i'll know the reason why!" now, indeed, the pinkies raised a great shout of joy, and the blues responded with another joyful shout, and rosalie kissed the little girl and said she had performed wonders, and everybody shook hands with cap'n bill and congratulated him upon his escape, and the parrot flew to trot's shoulder and screeched, "the pinkies are pink, the blues are blue, but trot's the queen, so too-ral-loo!" when the blueskins saw ghip-ghisizzle, they raised another great shout, for he was the favorite of the soldiers and very popular with all the people. but ghip-ghisizzle did not heed the shouting. he was looking downcast and sad, and it was easy to see he was disappointed because he had not conquered the boolooroo himself. but the people called upon him for a speech, so he faced the blueskins and said, "i escaped from the city because the boolooroo tried to patch me as you all know, and the six snubnosed princesses tried to marry me, which would have been a far greater misfortune. but i have recovered the book of royal records, which has long been hidden in the treasure chamber, and by reading it i find that the boolooroo is not your lawful boolooroo at all, having reigned more than his three hundred years. since last thursday, i, ghip-ghisizzle, have been the lawful boolooroo of the blue country, but now that you are conquered by queen trot, i suppose i am conquered, too, and you have no boolooroo at all." "hooray!" cried the parrot. "here's a pretty howdy-do- you haven't any boolooroo!" trot had listened carefully to the majordomo's speech. when he finished, she said cheerfully, "don't worry, sizzle dear, it'll all come right pretty soon. now then, let's enter the city an' enjoy the grand feast that's being cooked. i'm nearly starved, myself, for this conquerin' kingdoms is hard work." so the pinkies and the blues marched side by side into the city, and there was great rejoicing and music and dancing and feasting and games and merrymaking that lasted for three full days. trot carried rosalie and captain coralie and ghip-ghisizzle to the palace, and of course button-bright and cap'n bill were with her. they had the royal chef serve dinner at once, and they ate in great state, seated in the royal banquet hall, where they were waited on by a hundred servants. the parrot perched upon the back of queen trot's chair, and the girl fed it herself, being glad to have the jolly bird with her again. after they had eaten all they could and the servants had been sent away, trot related her adventures, telling how with the assistance of the billygoat she had turned the tables on the wicked boolooroo. then she gave rosalie back her magic ring, thanking the kind witch for all she had done for them. "and now," said she, "i want to say to ghip-'sizzle that jus' as soon as we can find button-bright's umbrel we're going to fly home again. i'll always be queen of sky island, but the pink and blue countries must each have a ruler. i think i'll make 'sizzle the boolooroo of the blues, but i want you to promise me, ghip, that you'll destroy the great knife and its frame and clean up the room and turn it into a skating rink an' never patch anyone as long as you rule the blueskins." ghip-ghisizzle was overjoyed at the prospect of being boolooroo of the blues, but he looked solemn at the promise trot exacted. "i'm not cruel," he said, "and i don't approve of patching in general, so i'll willingly destroy the great knife. but before i do that, i want the privilege of patching the snubnosed princesses to each other--mixing the six as much as possible--and then i want to patch the former boolooroo to the billygoat, which is the same punishment he was going to inflict upon cap'n bill." "no," said trot positively. "there's been enough patching in this country, and i won't have any more of it. the old boolooroo and the six stuck-up princesses will be punished enough by being put out of the palace. the people don't like 'em a bit, so they'll be outcasts and wanderers, and that will make 'em sorry they were so wicked an' cruel when they were powerful. am i right, cap'n bill?" "you are, mate," replied the sailor. "please, queen trot," begged ghip-ghisizzle, "let me patch just the boolooroo. it will be such a satisfaction." "i have said no, an' i mean it," answered the girl. "you let the poor old boolooroo alone. there's nothing that hurts so much as a come-down in life, an' i 'spect the old rascal's goin' to be pretty miser'ble by'm'by." "what does he say to his reversal of fortune?" asked rosalie. "why, i don't b'lieve he knows about it," said trot. "guess i'd better send for him an' tell him what's happened." so the captain of the guards was given the key and told to fetch the boolooroo from the room of the great knife. the guards had a terrible struggle with the goat, which was loose in the room and still wanted to fight, but finally they subdued the animal, and then they took the boolooroo out of the frame he was tied in and brought both him and the goat before queen trot, who awaited them in the throne room of the palace. when the courtiers and the people assembled saw the goat, they gave a great cheer, for the beast had helped to dethrone their wicked ruler. "what's goin' to happen to this tough ol' warrior, trot?" asked cap'n bill. "it's my idee as he's braver than the whole blue army put together." "you're right, cap'n," she returned. "i'll have 'sizzle make a fine yard for the goat, where he'll have plenty of blue grass to eat. an' i'll have a pretty fence put around it an' make all the people honor an' respec' him jus' as long as he lives." "i'll gladly do that," promised the new boolooroo, "and i'll feed the honorable goat all the shavings and leather and tin cans he can eat, besides the grass. he'll be the happiest goat in sky island, i assure you." as they led the now-famous animal from the room, the boolooroo shuddered and said, "how dare you people give orders in my palace? i'm the boolooroo!" "'scuse me," said trot. "i neglected to tell you that you're not the boolooroo any more. we've got the royal record book, an' it proves you've already ruled this country longer than you had any right to. 'sides all that, i'm the queen o' sky island--which means queen o' the pinkies an' queen o' the blues, both of 'em. so things are run as i say, an' i've made ghip-ghisizzle boolooroo in your place. he'll look after this end of the island hereafter, an' unless i'm much mistaken, he'll do it a heap better than you did." the former boolooroo groaned. "what's going to become of me, then?" he asked. "am i to be patched, or what?" "you won't be hurt," answered the girl, "but you'll have to find some other place to stay besides this palace, an' perhaps you'll enjoy workin' for a livin' by way of variety." "can't i take any of the treasure with me?" he pleaded. "not even a bird cage," said she. "ever'thing in the palace now belongs to ghip-ghisizzle." "except the six snubnosed princesses," exclaimed the new boolooroo earnestly. "won't you please get rid of them, too, your majesty? can't they be discharged?" "of course," said trot. "they must go with their dear father an' mother. isn't there some house in the city they can all live in, ghip?" "why, i own a little cabin at the end of the town," said ghip-ghisizzle, "and i'll let them use that, as i won't need it any longer. it isn't a very pretty cabin, and the furniture is cheap and common, but i'm sure it is good enough for this wicked man and his family." "i'll not be wicked any more," sighed the old boolooroo. "i'll reform. it's always best to reform when it is no longer safe to remain wicked. as a private citizen, i shall be a model of deportment, because it would be dangerous to be otherwise." trot now sent for the princesses, who had been weeping and wailing and fighting among themselves ever since they learned that their father had been conquered. when first they entered the throne room, they tried to be as haughty and scornful as ever, but the blues who were assembled there all laughed at them and jeered them, for there was not a single person in all the blue country who loved the princesses the least little bit. trot told the girls that they must go with their father to live in ghip-ghisizzle's little old cabin, and when they heard this dreadful decree, the six snubnosed ones began to scream and have hysterics, and between them they managed to make so much noise that no one could hear anything else. so ghip-ghisizzle ordered the captain to take a file of soldiers and escort the raving beauties to their new home. this was done, the once-royal family departing from the palace with shamed and downcast looks. then the room of the great knife was cleared of its awful furniture. the frames were split into small pieces of bluewood and the benches chopped into kindling and the immense sharp knife broken into bits. all the rubbish was piled into the square before the palace and a bonfire made of it, while the blue people clustered around and danced and sang with joy as the blue flames devoured the dreadful instrument that had once caused them so much unhappiness. that evening trot gave a grand ball in her palace, to which the most important of the pinkies and the blueskins were invited. the combined bands of both the countries played the music, and a fine supper was served. the pinkies would not dance with the blues, however, nor would the blues dance with the pinkies. the two nations were so different in all ways that they were unable to agree at all, and several times during the evening quarrels arose and there was fighting between them, which trot promptly checked. "i think it would be best for us to go back to our own country as soon as possible," suggested rosalie the witch, "for if we stay here very long, the blueskins may rise against us and cause the pinkies much trouble." "jus' as soon as we find that umbrel," promised trot, "we'll dive into the fog bank an' make tracks for the land of sunrise an' sunset." the fate of the magic umbrella chapter 27 next morning the search for the magic umbrella began in earnest. with many to hunt for it and the liberty of the whole palace to aid them, every inch of the great building was carefully examined. but no trace of the umbrella could be found. cap'n bill and button-bright went down to the cabin of the former boolooroo and tried to find out what he had done with the umbrella, but the old boolooroo said, "i had it brought from the treasure chamber and tried to make it work, but there was no magic about the thing. so i threw it away. i haven't any idea what became of it." the six former princesses were sitting upon a rude bench, looking quite bedraggled and untidy. said indigo: "if you will make ghip-ghisizzle marry me, i'll find your old umbrella." "where is it?" asked button-bright eagerly. "make ghip-ghisizzle marry me, and i'll tell you," repeated indigo. "but i won't say another word about it until after i am married." so they went back to the palace and proposed to the new boolooroo to marry indigo so they could get their magic umbrella. but ghip-ghisizzle positively refused. "i'd like to help you," said he, "but nothing will ever induce me to marry one of those snubnoses." "they're very pretty--for blueskins," said trot. "but when you marry a girl, you marry the inside as well as the outside," declared ghip-ghisizzle, "and inside these princesses there are wicked hearts and evil thoughts. i'd rather be patched than marry the best of them." "which is the best?" asked button-bright. "i don't know, i'm sure," was the reply. "judging from their actions in the past, there is no best." rosalie the witch now went to the cabin and put indigo into a deep sleep by means of a powerful charm. then, while the princess slept, the witch made her tell all she knew, which wasn't a great deal, to be sure; but it was soon discovered that indigo had been deceiving them and knew nothing at all about the umbrella. she had hoped to marry ghip-ghisizzle and become queen, after which she could afford to laugh at their reproaches. so the witch woke her up and went back to the palace to tell trot of her failure. the girl and button-bright and cap'n bill were all rather discouraged by this time, for they had searched high and low and had not found a trace of the all-important umbrella. that night none of them slept much, for they all lay awake wondering how they could ever return to the earth and to their homes. in the morning of the third day after trot's conquest of the blues, the little girl conceived another idea. she called all the servants of the palace to her and questioned them closely. but not one could remember having seen anything that looked like an umbrella. "are all the servants of the old boolooroo here?" inquired cap'n bill, who was sorry to see trot looking so sad and downcast. "all but one," was the reply. "tiggle used to be a servant, but he escaped and ran away." "oh, yes!" exclaimed trot. "tiggle is in hiding somewhere. perhaps he doesn't know there's been a revolution and a new boolooroo rules the country. if he did, there's no need for him to hide any longer, for he is now in no danger." she now dispatched messengers all through the city and the surrounding country, who cried aloud for tiggle, saying that the new boolooroo wanted him. tiggle, hiding in the cellar of a deserted house in a back street, at last heard these cries and joyfully came forth to confront the messengers. having heard of the old boolooroo's downfall and disgrace, the old man consented to go to the palace again, and as soon as trot saw him she asked about the umbrella. tiggle thought hard for a minute and then said he remembered sweeping the king's rooms and finding a queer thing--that might have been an umbrella--lying beneath a cabinet. it had ropes and two wooden seats and a wicker basket all attached to the handle. "that's it!" cried button-bright excitedly, and "that's it! that's it!" cried both trot and cap'n bill. "but what did you do with it?" asked ghip-ghisizzle. "i dragged it out and threw it on the rubbish heap in an alley back of the palace," said tiggle. at once they all rushed out to the alley and began digging in the rubbish heap. by and by cap'n bill uncovered the lunch basket, and pulling on this he soon drew up the two seats, and finally the magic umbrella. "hurrah!" shouted button-bright, grabbing the umbrella and hugging it tight in his arms. "hooray!" shrieked the parrot. "cap'n bill's a lucky fellah, 'cause he found the old umbrella!" trot's face was wreathed in smiles. "this is jus' the best luck that could have happened to us," she exclaimed, "'cause now we can go home whenever we please." "let's go now--this minute--before we lose the umbrella again," said button-bright. but trot shook her head. "not yet," she replied. "we've got to straighten out things in sky island first of all. a queen has some duties, you know, and as long as i'm queen here, i've got to live up to the part." "what has to be did, mate?" inquired cap'n bill. "well, we've fixed the blue country pretty well by makin' 'sizzle the boolooroo of it; but the pinkies mus' be looked after, too, 'cause they've stood by us an' helped us to win. we must take 'em home again safe an' sound and get a new queen to rule over 'em. when that's done, we can go home any time we want to." "quite right, trot," said the sailor approvingly. "when do we march?" "right away," she replied. "i've had enough of the blue country, haven't you?" "we have, mate." "we've had plenty of it," observed button-bright. "and the pinkies are anxious to get home," added rosalie, who was present. so cap'n bill unhooked the seats from the handle of the umbrella and wound the ropes around the two boards and made a package of them, which he carried under his arm. trot took the empty lunch basket, and button-bright held fast to the precious umbrella. then they returned to the palace to bid goodbye to ghip-ghisizzle and the blues. the new boolooroo seemed rather sorry to lose his friends, but the people were secretly glad to get rid of the strangers, especially of the pinkies. they maintained a sullen silence while coralie and captain tintint formed their ranks in marching order, and they did not even cheer when trot said to them in a final speech: "i'm the queen of sky island, you know, and the new boolooroo has to carry out my orders and treat you all nicely while i'm away. i don't know when i'll come back, but you'd better watch out an' not make any trouble, or i'll find a way to make you sorry for it. so now, goodbye!" "and good riddance!" screamed the six snubnosed girls who had once been princesses and who were now in the crowd that watched the departure. but trot paid no attention to them. she made a signal to the pinkie band, which struck up a fine pink march, and then the army stepped out with the left foot first, and away went the conquerors down the streets of the blue city, out of the blue-barred gateway and across the country toward the fog bank. the elephant's head comes to life chapter 28 when they reached the edge of the fog bank, the pinkies all halted to put on their raincoats, and button-bright put up his umbrella and held it over himself and trot. then, when everybody was ready, they entered the fog and rosalie the witch made a signal to call the frog king and his subjects to aid them as they had done before. pretty soon the great frogs appeared, a long line of them facing trot and her pink army and sitting upon their haunches close together. "turn around so we can get upon your backs," said rosalie. "not yet," answered the frog king in a gruff, deep voice. "you must first take that insulting umbrella out of my dominions." "why, what is there about my umbrella that seems insulting?" asked button-bright in surprise. "it is an intimation that you don't like our glorious climate and object to our delightful fog and are trying to ward off its soulful, clinging kisses," replied the frog king in an agitated voice. "there has never been an umbrella in my kingdom before, and i'll not allow one in it now. take it away at once!" "but we can't," explained trot. "we've got to take the umbrella with us to the pink country. we'll put it down if you like, an' cross the bank in this drizzle--which may be clingin' an' soulful, but is too wet to be comfort'ble. but the umbrella's got to go with us." "it can't go another inch," cried the obstinate frog with an angry croak, "nor shall any of your people advance another step while that insulting umbrella is with you." trot turned to rosalie. "what shall we do?" she asked. "i really do not know," replied the witch, greatly perplexed. "can't you make the frogs let us through?" inquired the boy. "no, i have no power over the frogs," rosalie answered. "they carried us before as a favor, but if the king now insists that we cannot pass with the umbrella, we must go back to the blue country or leave your umbrella behind us." "we won't do that!" said button-bright indignantly. "can't we fight the frogs?" "fight!" cried trot. "why, see how big they are. they could eat up our whole army if they wanted to." but just then, while they stood dismayed at this unfortunate position, a queer thing happened. the umbrella in button-bright's hand began to tremble and shake. he looked down at the handle and saw that the red eyes of the carved elephant's head were rolling fiercely and sending out red sparks of anger in all directions. the trunk swayed from side to side, and the entire head began to swell and grow larger. in his fright, the boy sprang backward a step and dropped the umbrella to the ground, and as he did so, it took the form of a complete elephant, growing rapidly to a monstrous size. then, flapping its ears and wagging its tail--which was merely the covered frame of the umbrella--the huge elephant lifted its trunk and charged the line of astonished frogs. in a twinkling the frogs all turned and made the longest leaps their powerful legs enabled them to. the king jumped first of all, and in a panic of fear the others followed his example. they were out of sight in an instant, and then the elephant turned its head and looked at button-bright and at once trotted into the depths of the fog. "he wants us to follow," said the boy, gasping in amazement at this wonderful transformation. so immediately they began marching through the fog behind the elephant, and as the great beast advanced the frogs scrambled out of his way and hid themselves in the moist banks until he had passed them by. cap'n bill had to mind his wooden leg carefully, and the old sailor was so excited that he mumbled queer sentences about "araby ann knights" and "ding-donged magic" and the "fool foolishness of fussin' with witches an' sich," until trot wondered whether her old friend had gone crazy or was only badly scared. it was a long journey, and all the pinkies were dripping water from their raincoats, and their fat little legs were tired and aching when the pink glow showing through the fog at last announced that they were nearing the pink country. at the very edge of the fog bank the elephant halted, winked at button-bright, lowered its head and began to shrink in size and dwindle away. by the time the boy came up to it, closely followed by trot and cap'n bill, the thing was only the well-known magic umbrella, with the carved elephant's head for a handle, and it lay motionless upon the ground. button-bright picked it up, and as he examined it he thought the tiny eyes still twinkled a little, as if with triumph and pride. trot drew a long breath. "that was some magic, i guess!" she exclaimed. "don't you think so, rosalie?" "it was the most wonderful thing i ever saw," admitted the witch. "the fairies who control button-bright's umbrella must be very powerful indeed!" trot regulates the pinkies chapter 29 the pinkies were rejoiced to find themselves again in their beloved land of sunrises and sunsets. they sang and shouted with glee, and the band uncovered its pink instruments and played the national pink anthem, while the parrot flew from trot's shoulder to cap'n bill's shoulder and back again, screaming ecstatically, "hooray! we're through the wetful fogs where the elephant scared the fretful frogs!" there was a magnificent sunset in the sky just then, and it cheered the pinkies and gave them renewed strength. away they hastened across the pink fields to the pink city, where all the pink people who had been left behind ran out to welcome them home again. trot and button-bright, with cap'n bill and rosalie the witch, went to the humble palace, where they had a simple supper of coarse food and slept upon hard beds. in the houses of the city, however, there was much feasting and merrymaking, and it seemed to trot that the laws of the country which forbade the queen from enjoying all the good things the people did were decidedly wrong and needed changing. the next morning rosalie said to the little girl, "will you make tourmaline the queen again when you go away?" "i'll send for her and see about it," replied trot. but when tourmaline arrived at the palace, dressed all in lovely, fluffy robes and with a dainty pink plume in her pink hair, she begged most earnestly not to be made the queen again. "i'm having a good time just now after years of worry and uncomfortable living in this uncomfortable old hut of a palace," said the poor girl, "so it would be cruel for you to make me the servant of the people again and condemn me to want and misery." "that seems reason'ble," replied trot thoughtfully. "rosalie's skin is just as light a pink as my own," continued tourmaline. "why don't you make her the queen?" "i hadn't thought of that," said trot. then she turned to rosalie and asked, "how would you like to rule the pinkies?" "i wouldn't like it," replied the witch with a smile. "the queen is the poorest and most miserable creature in all the kingdom, and i'm sure i don't deserve such a fate. i've always tried to be a good witch and to do my duty." trot thought this over quite seriously for a time. then one of her quaint ideas came to her--so quaint that it was entirely sensible. "i'm the queen of the pinkies just now, am i not?" she asked. "of course," answered rosalie. "none can dispute that." "then i've the right to make new laws, haven't i?" "i believe so." "in that case," said the girl, "i'm goin' to make a law that the queen shall have the same food an' the same dresses an' the same good times that her people have; and she shall live in a house jus' as good as the houses of any of her people, an' have as much money to spend as anybody. but no more. the queen can have her share of ever'thing 'cordin' to the new law, but if she tries to get more than her share, i'll have the law say she shall be taken to the edge an' pushed off. what do you think of that law, rosalie?" "it's a good law and a just one," replied the witch approvingly. so trot sent for the royal scribbler, who was a very fat pinky with large, pink eyes and curly pink hair, and had him carefully write the new law into the great book of laws. the royal scribbler wrote it very nicely in pink ink, with a big capital letter at the beginning and a fine flourish at the end. after trot had signed her name to it as queen, she called all of the important people of the land to assemble in the court of the statues and ordered the royal declaimer to read to them the new law. the pinkies seemed to think it was a just law and much better than the old one, and rosalie said: "now no one can object to becoming queen, since the ruler of the pinkies will no longer be obliged to endure suffering and hardships." "all right," said trot. "in that case, i'll make you the queen, rosalie, for you've got more sense than tourmaline has and your powers as a witch will help you protect the people." at once she made the announcement, telling the assembled pinkies that by virtue of her high office as queen of sky island she would leave rosalie the witch to rule over the pink country while she returned to the earth with her friends. as rosalie was greatly loved and respected, the people joyfully accepted her as their queen, and trot ordered them to tear down the old hut and build a new palace for rosalie--one which would be just as good as any other house in the city, but no better. she further ordered a pink statue of tourmaline to be set up in the court, and also a pink statue of herself, so that the record of all the rulers of the pinkies should be complete. the people agreed to do all this as soon as possible, and some of the leaders whispered together and then asked coralie to be their spokesman in replying to queen trot's speech. coralie stood on a chair and made a bow, after which she thanked trot in the name of the pinkies for leading them safely into the blue country and out again, and for giving them so good a queen as rosalie. the pinkies would be sorry to have their new friends, the earth people, leave them, but asked the queen of sky island to carry with her the royal band of pink gold which she now wore upon her brow, together with the glistening pink jewel set in its center. it would remind her, coralie declared, of the beautiful land of sunset and sunrise and of the fact that the pinkies would always be glad to welcome her back. trot knew she would never return to sky island, but she did not tell them that. she merely thanked coralie and the pinkies and said they might all come to the court after dinner and see her and her comrades fly away through the sky. the journey home chapter 30 after the pinkies had been dismissed, their new queen rosalie, by means of a clever charm, conjured up a dinner table set with very nice things to eat. they all enjoyed a hearty meal and afterward sat and talked over their adventures. "will you take the parrot home with you, trot?" asked cap'n bill. "guess not, cap'n," she answered. "mother wouldn't like to have him hangin' 'round an' screechin' bad po'try ev'ry minute. i'll give him to rosalie, for i'm sure she'll take good care of him." rosalie accepted the gift with pleasure, but the parrot looked sober for a while and then said, "this looks to me like a giveaway; but here i am, and here i'll stay. the country's pink, but we'll all be blue when trot goes home as she says she'll do." they now packed the lunchbasket with the remains of the feast, for they knew a long journey was before them and feared they might be hungry before they landed again. cap'n bill straightened out the ropes and adjusted the seats, while button-bright examined the umbrella to see if it had been injured in any way when the elephant tramped through the fog bank. the boy looked into the small red eyes of the carved elephant's-head handle with some misgivings, but as seen in the strong sunshine the eyes were merely red stones, while the handle plainly showed the marks of the tool that had carved it. when all was ready, they went into the court of the statues, where all the pinkies were assembled--together with their pink band--and cap'n bill hooked the swinging seats onto the handle of the magic umbrella. trot kissed rosalie and coralie and tourmaline goodbye and said to them: "if you ever happen to come to earth, you must be sure to visit me, and i'll try to give you a good time. but p'raps you'll stay here all your lives." "i think we shall," replied rosalie, laughing, "for in all sky island there will be no magic umbrella for us to fly with." "and when you see polychrome," added trot, "jus' give her my love." then she and button-bright seated themselves in the double seat, which was flat upon the pink ground, and cap'n bill sat before them on his own seat, to which the lunch basket had been fastened by means of a stout cord. "hold fast!" said the sailor man, and they all held fast to the ropes while the boy, glancing up toward the open umbrella he held, said solemnly and distinctly: "take us to trot's house on the earth." the umbrella obeyed, at once mounting into the air. it moved slowly at first, but gradually increased its speed. first it lifted the seat of the boy and the girl, then cap'n bill's seat, and finally the lunch basket. "fly high!--mind your eye! don't cry!--bye-bye!" shouted the parrot from the pink witch's shoulder. trot leaned over and waved her hand. the pink band played as loud as it could--in order that the travelers might hear it as long as possible--and rosalie and coralie and tourmaline threw kisses to their vanishing friends as long as they remained in sight. * * * * * "seems good to be on the way home again," remarked trot as the umbrella bumped into a big, black cloud. "it reely does, mate," answered the sailorman joyously. fast through the cloud the umbrella swept, and then suddenly it sailed into a clear, blue sky, across which a great and gorgeous rainbow spread its radiant arch. upon the bow danced the dainty daughters of the rainbow, and the umbrella passed near enough to it for the passengers to observe polychrome merrily leading her sisters, her fleecy robes waving prettily in the gentle breeze. "goodbye, polly!" cried button-bright, and trot and cap'n bill both called out, "goodbye!" polychrome heard and nodded to them smilingly, never halting in her graceful dance. then the umbrella dropped far below the arch, which presently faded from view. it was an exciting ride. scenes presented themselves entirely different from those they had seen on their former voyage, for the sky changes continually, and the clouds of a moment ago are not the clouds of an hour ago. once they passed between two small stars as brilliant as diamonds, and once an enormous bird whose wings spread so wide that they shadowed the sun soared directly over them and lost itself in the vague distance of the limitless sky. they rode quite comfortably, however, and were full of eager interest in what they saw. the rush of air past them made them hungry, so cap'n bill drew up the lunchbasket and held it so that button-bright and trot could help themselves to the pink food, which tasted very good. and finally a dark rim appeared below them, which the sailor declared must be the earth. he proved to be correct, and when they came nearer, they found themselves flying over the waves of the ocean. pretty soon a small island appeared, and trot exclaimed, "that's the sky island we thought we were goin' to--only we didn't." "yes, an' there's the mainland, mate!" cried cap'n bill excitedly, pointing toward a distant coast. on swept the magic umbrella. then its speed gradually slackened; the houses and trees on the coast could be seen, and presently--almost before they realized it--they were set down gently upon the high bluff near the giant acacia. a little way off stood the white cottage where trot lived. it was growing dusk as cap'n bill unhooked the seats and button-bright folded up the umbrella and tucked it under his arm. trot seized the lunchbasket and ran to the house, where she found her mother busy in the kitchen. "well, i'm back again," said the little girl. "is supper ready, mama?" button-bright stayed all night with them, but next morning, bright and early, he hooked one of the seats to his magic umbrella, said goodbye to trot and cap'n bill, and flew into the air to begin his journey to philadelphia. just before he started, trot said: "let me know if you get home safe, button-bright, an' come an' see me again as quick as you can." "i'll try to come again," said the boy. "we've had a good time, haven't we, trot?" "the bes' time i ever had!" she replied enthusiastically. then she asked, "didn't you like it, too, cap'n bill?" "parts o' it, mate," the sailor answered as he thoughtfully made marks in the sand with the end of his wooden leg, "but seems to me the bes' part of all was gett'n' home again." after several days trot received a postal card from button-bright. it was awkwardly scrawled, for the boy was not much of a writer, but trot managed to make out the words. it read as follows: "got home safe, trot, and the folks were so worried they forgot to scold me. father has taken the magic umbrella and locked it up in the big, strong chest in the attic. he put the key in his own pocket, so i don't know as i'll ever be able to see you again. but i'll never forget the queen of sky island, and i send my love to you and cap'n bill. "your friend, "button-bright." the end [illustration: this book belongs to] sky island [illustration] the famous oz books by l. frank baum: the wizard of oz the land of oz ozma of oz dorothy and the wizard in oz the road to oz the emerald city of oz the patchwork girl of oz tik-tok of oz the scarecrow of oz rinkitink in oz the lost princess of oz the tin woodman of oz the magic of oz glinda of oz chicago the reilly & lee co. _publishers_ sky island _being the further exciting adventures of trot and cap'n bill after their visit to the sea fairies_ by l. frank baum author of the sea fairies, the emerald city of oz, dorothy and the wizard in oz, ozma of oz, the road to oz, the land of oz, etc. [illustration] illustrated by john r. neill the reilly & lee co. chicago [illustration] copyright 1912. by l. frank baum library of congress catalog card no. 78-125373 [illustration] [illustration] to my sister mary louise brewster [illustration] a little talk to my readers with "the sea fairies," my book for 1911, i ventured into a new field of fairy literature and to my delight the book was received with much approval by my former readers, many of whom have written me that they like trot "almost as well as dorothy." as dorothy was an old, old friend and trot a new one, i think this is very high praise for cap'n bill's little companion. cap'n bill is also a new character who seems to have won approval, and so both trot and the old sailor are again introduced in the present story, which may be called the second of the series of adventures of trot and cap'n bill. but you will recognize some other acquaintances in "sky island." here, for instance, is button-bright, who once had an adventure with dorothy in oz, and without button-bright and his magic umbrella you will see that the story of "sky island" could never have been written. as polychrome, the rainbow's daughter, lives in the sky, it is natural that trot and button-bright meet her during their adventures there. this story of sky island has astonished me considerably, and i think it will also astonish you. the sky country is certainly a remarkable fairyland, but after reading about it i am sure you will agree with me that our old mother earth is a very good place to live upon and that trot and button-bright and cap'n bill were fortunate to get back to it again. by the way, one of my little correspondents has suggested that i print my address in this book, so that the children may know where letters will reach me. i am doing this, as you see, and hope that many will write to me and tell me how they like "sky island." my greatest treasures are these letters from my readers and i am always delighted to receive them. l. frank baum. "ozcot" at hollywood in california [illustration] list of chapters chapter 1--a mysterious arrival 13 2--the magic umbrella 23 3--a wonderful experience 37 4--the island in the sky 48 5--the boolooroo of the blues 55 6--the six snubnosed princesses 65 7--ghip-ghisizzle proves friendly 74 8--the blue city 80 9--the tribulation of trot 91 10--the king's treasure chamber 101 11--button-bright encounters the blue wolf 112 12--through the fog bank 119 13--the pink country 130 14--tourmaline the poverty queen 138 15--the sunrise tribe and the sunset tribe 147 16--rosalie the witch 160 17--the arrival of polychrome 168 18--mayre, queen of the pink country 179 19--the war of the pinks and blues 187 20--ghip-ghisizzle has a bad time 193 21--the capture of cap'n bill 201 22--trot's invisible adventure 214 23--the girl and the boolooroo 222 24--the amazing conquest of the blues 233 25--the ruler of sky island 245 26--trot celebrates her victory 252 27--the fate of the magic umbrella 263 28--the elephant's head comes to life 270 29--trot regulates the pinkies 275 30--the journey home 280 [illustration] [illustration] a mysterious arrival chapter 1. [illustration] "hello," said the boy. "hello," answered trot, looking up surprised. "where did you come from?" "philadelphia," said he. "dear me," said trot; "you're a long way from home, then." "'bout as far as i can get, in this country," the boy replied, gazing out over the water. "isn't this the pacific ocean?" "of course." "why of course?" he asked. "because it's the biggest lot of water in all the world." "how do you know?" "cap'n bill told me," she said. "who's cap'n bill?" "an old sailorman who's a friend of mine. he lives at my house, too--the white house you see over there on the bluff." "oh; is that your home?" "yes," said trot, proudly. "isn't it pretty?" "it's pretty small, seems to me," answered the boy. "but it's big enough for mother and me, an' for cap'n bill," said trot. "haven't you any father?" "yes, 'ndeed; cap'n griffith is my father; but he's gone, most of the time, sailin' on his ship. you mus' be a stranger in these parts, little boy, not to know 'bout cap'n griffith," she added, looking at her new acquaintance intently. trot wasn't very big herself, but the boy was not quite as big as trot. he was thin, with a rather pale complexion and his blue eyes were round and earnest. he wore a blouse waist, a short jacket and knickerbockers. under his arm he held an old umbrella that was as tall as he was. its covering had once been of thick brown cloth, but the color had faded to a dull drab, except in the creases, and trot thought it looked very old-fashioned and common. the handle, though, was really curious. it was of wood and carved to resemble an elephant's head. the long trunk of the elephant was curved to make a crook for the handle. the eyes of the beast were small red stones, and it had two tiny tusks of ivory. the boy's dress was rich and expensive, even to his fine silk stockings and tan shoes; but the umbrella looked old and disreputable. "it isn't the rainy season now," remarked trot, with a smile. the boy glanced at his umbrella and hugged it tighter. "no," he said; "but umbrellas are good for other things 'sides rain." "'fraid of gett'n' sun-struck?" asked trot. he shook his head, still gazing far out over the water. "i don't b'lieve this is bigger than any other ocean," said he. "i can't see any more of it than i can of the atlantic." "you'd find out, if you had to sail across it," she declared. "when i was in chicago i saw lake michigan," he went on dreamily, "and it looked just as big as this water does." "looks don't count, with oceans," she asserted. "your eyes can only see jus' so far, whether you're lookin' at a pond or a great sea." "then it doesn't make any difference how big an ocean is," he replied. "what are those buildings over there?" pointing to the right, along the shore of the bay. "that's the town," said trot. "most of the people earn their living by fishing. the town is half a mile from here an' my house is almost a half mile the other way; so it's 'bout a mile from my house to the town." the boy sat down beside her on the flat rock. "do you like girls?" asked trot, making room for him. "not very well," the boy replied. "some of 'em are pretty good fellows, but not many. the girls with brothers are bossy, an' the girls without brothers haven't any 'go' to 'em. but the world's full o' both kinds, and so i try to take 'em as they come. they can't help being girls, of course. do you like boys?" "when they don't put on airs, or get rough-house," replied trot. "my 'sperience with boys is that they don't know much, but think they do." "that's true," he answered. "i don't like boys much better than i do girls; but some are all right, and--you seem to be one of 'em." "much obliged," laughed trot. "you aren't so bad, either, an' if we don't both turn out worse than we seem we ought to be friends." he nodded, rather absently, and tossed a pebble into the water. "been to town?" he asked. "yes. mother wanted some yarn from the store. she's knittin' cap'n bill a stocking." "doesn't he wear but one?" "that's all. cap'n bill has one wooden leg," she explained. "that's why he don't sailor any more. i'm glad of it, 'cause cap'n bill knows ev'rything. i s'pose he knows more than anyone else in all the world." "whew!" said the boy; "that's taking a good deal for granted. a one-legged sailor can't know much." "why not?" asked trot, a little indignantly. "folks don't learn things with their legs, do they?" "no; but they can't get around, without legs, to find out things." "cap'n bill got 'round lively 'nough once, when he had two meat legs," she said. "he's sailed to 'most ev'ry country on the earth, an' found out all that the people in 'em knew, and a lot besides. he was shipwrecked on a desert island, once, and another time a cannibal king tried to boil him for dinner, an' one day a shark chased him seven leagues through the water, an'--" "what's a league?" asked the boy. "it's a--a distance, like a mile is; but a league isn't a mile, you know." "what is it, then?" "you'll have to ask cap'n bill; he knows ever'thing." "not ever'thing," objected the boy. "i know some things cap'n bill don't know." "if you do you're pretty smart," said trot. "no; i'm not smart. some folks think i'm stupid. i guess i am. but i know a few things that are wonderful. cap'n bill may know more'n i do--a good deal more--but i'm sure he can't know the same things. say, what's your name?" "i'm mayre griffith; but ever'body calls me 'trot.' it's a nickname i got when i was a baby, 'cause i trotted so fast when i walked, an' it seems to stick. what's _your_ name?" "button-bright." "how did it happen?" "how did what happen?" "such a funny name." the boy scowled a little. "just like your own nickname happened," he answered gloomily. "my father once said i was bright as a button, an' it made ever'body laugh. so they always call me button-bright." "what's your real name?" she inquired. "saladin paracelsus de lambertine evagne von smith." "guess i'll call you button-bright," said trot, sighing. "the only other thing would be 'salad,' an' i don't like salads. don't you find it hard work to 'member all of your name?" "i don't try to," he said. "there's a lot more of it, but i've forgotten the rest." "thank you," said trot. "oh, here comes cap'n bill!" as she glanced over her shoulder. button-bright turned also and looked solemnly at the old sailor who came stumping along the path toward them. cap'n bill wasn't a very handsome man. he was old, not very tall, somewhat stout and chubby, with a round face, a bald head and a scraggly fringe of reddish whisker underneath his chin. but his blue eyes were frank and merry and his smile like a ray of sunshine. he wore a sailor shirt with a broad collar, a short peajacket and wide-bottomed sailor trousers, one leg of which covered his wooden limb but did not hide it. as he came "pegging" along the path, as he himself described his hobbling walk, his hands were pushed into his coat pockets, a pipe was in his mouth and his black neckscarf was fluttering behind him in the breeze like a sable banner. button-bright liked the sailor's looks. there was something very winning--something jolly and care-free and honest and sociable--about the ancient seaman that made him everybody's friend; so the strange boy was glad to meet him. "well, well, trot," he said, coming up, "is this the way you hurry to town?" "no, for i'm on my way back," said she. "i did hurry when i was going, cap'n bill, but on my way home i sat down here to rest an' watch the gulls--the gulls seem awful busy to-day, cap'n bill--an' then i found this boy." cap'n bill looked at the boy curiously. "don't think as ever i sawr him at the village," he remarked. "guess as you're a stranger, my lad." button-bright nodded. "hain't walked the nine mile from the railroad station, hev ye?" asked cap'n bill. "no," said button-bright. the sailor glanced around him. "don't see no waggin, er no autymob'l'," he added. "no," said button-bright. "catch a ride wi' some one?" button-bright shook his head. "a boat can't land here; the rocks is too thick an' too sharp," continued cap'n bill, peering down toward the foot of the bluff on which they sat and against which the waves broke in foam. "no," said button-bright; "i didn't come by water." trot laughed. "he must 'a' dropped from the sky, cap'n bill!" she exclaimed. button-bright nodded, very seriously. "that's it," he said. "oh; a airship, eh?" cried cap'n bill, in surprise. "i've hearn tell o' them sky keeridges; someth'n' like flyin' autymob'l's, ain't they?" "i don't know," said button-bright; "i've never seen one." both trot and cap'n bill now looked at the boy in astonishment. "now, then, lemme think a minute," said the sailor, reflectively. "here's a riddle for us to guess, trot. he dropped from the sky, he says, an' yet he did'nt come in a airship! "'riddlecum, riddlecum ree; what can the answer be?'" trot looked the boy over carefully. she didn't see any wings on him. the only queer thing about him was his big umbrella. "oh!" she said suddenly, clapping her hands together; "i know now." "do you?" asked cap'n bill, doubtfully. "then you're some smarter ner i am, mate." "he sailed down with the umbrel!" she cried. "he used his umbrel as a para--para--" "shoot," said cap'n bill. "they're called parashoots, mate; but why, i can't say. did you drop down in that way, my lad?" he asked the boy. "yes," said button-bright; "that was the way." "but how did you get up there?" asked trot. "you had to get up in the air before you could drop down, an'--oh, cap'n bill! he says he's from phillydelfy, which is a big city way at the other end of america." "are you?" asked the sailor, surprised. button-bright nodded again. "i ought to tell you my story," he said, "and then you'd understand. but i'm afraid you won't believe me, and--" he suddenly broke off and looked toward the white house in the distance--"didn't you say you lived over there?" he inquired. "yes," said trot. "won't you come home with us?" "i'd like to," replied button-bright. "all right; let's go, then," said the girl, jumping up. the three walked silently along the path. the old sailorman had refilled his pipe and lighted it again, and he smoked thoughtfully as he pegged along beside the children. "know anyone around here?" he asked button-bright. "no one but you two," said the boy, following after trot, with his umbrella tucked carefully underneath his arm. "and you don't know us very well," remarked cap'n bill. "seems to me you're pretty young to be travelin' so far from home, an' among strangers; but i won't say anything more till we've heard your story. then, if you need my advice, or trot's advice--she's a wise little girl, fer her size, trot is--we'll freely give it an' be glad to help you." "thank you," replied button-bright; "i need a lot of things, i'm sure, and p'raps advice is one of 'em." [illustration] [illustration] the magic umbrella chapter 2. when they reached the neat frame cottage which stood on a high bluff a little back from the sea and was covered with pretty green vines, a woman came to the door to meet them. she seemed motherly and good and when she saw button-bright she exclaimed: "goodness me! who's this you've got, trot?" "it's a boy i've just found," explained the girl. "he lives way off in phillydelphy." "mercy sakes alive!" cried mrs. griffith, looking into his upturned face; "i don't believe he's had a bite to eat since he started. ain't you hungry, child?" "yes," said button-bright. "run, trot, an' get two slices o' bread-an'-butter," commanded mrs. griffith. "cut 'em thick, dear, an' use plenty of butter." "sugar on 'em?" asked trot, turning to obey. "no," said button-bright, "just bread-an'-butter's good enough when you're hungry, and it takes time to spread sugar on." "we'll have supper in an hour," observed trot's mother, briskly; "but a hungry child can't wait a whole hour, i'm sure. what are you grinning at, cap'n bill? how dare you laugh when i'm talking? stop it this minute, you old pirate, or i'll know the reason why!" "i didn't, mum," said cap'n bill, meekly, "i on'y--" "stop right there, sir! how dare you speak when i'm talking?" she turned to button-bright and her tone changed to one of much gentleness as she said: "come in the house, my poor boy, an' rest yourself. you seem tired out. here, give me that clumsy umbrella." "no, please," said button-bright, holding the umbrella tighter. "then put it in the rack behind the door," she urged. the boy seemed a little frightened. "i--i'd rather keep it with me, if you please," he pleaded. "never mind," cap'n bill ventured to say, "it won't worry him so much to hold the umbrella, mum, as to let it go. guess he's afraid he'll lose it, but it ain't any great shakes, to my notion. why, see here, butt'n-bright, we've got half-a-dozen umbrels in the closet that's better ner yours." "perhaps," said the boy. "yours may look a heap better, sir, but--i'll keep this one, if you please." "where did you get it?" asked trot, appearing just then with a plate of bread-and-butter. "it--it belongs in our family," said button-bright, beginning to eat and speaking between bites. "this umbrella has been in our family years, an' years, an' years. but it was tucked away up in our attic an' no one ever used it 'cause it wasn't pretty." [illustration] "don't blame 'em much," remarked cap'n bill, gazing at it curiously; "it's a pretty old-lookin' bumbershoot." they were all seated in the vine-shaded porch of the cottage--all but mrs. griffith, who had gone into the kitchen to look after the supper--and trot was on one side of the boy, holding the plate for him, while cap'n bill sat on the other side. "it _is_ old," said button-bright. "one of my great-great-grandfathers was a knight--an arabian knight--and it was he who first found this umbrella." "an arabian night!" exclaimed trot; "why, that was a magic night, wasn't it?" "there's diff'rent sorts o' nights, mate," said the sailor, "an' the knight button-bright means ain't the same night you mean. soldiers used to be called knights, but that were in the dark ages, i guess, an' likely 'nough butt'n-bright's great-gran'ther were that sort of a knight." "but he said an arabian knight," persisted trot. "well, if he went to araby, or was born there, he'd be an arabian knight, wouldn't he? the lad's gran'ther were prob'ly a furriner, an' yours an' mine were, too, trot, if you go back far enough; for ameriky wasn't diskivered in them days." "there!" said trot, triumphantly, "didn't i tell you, button-bright, that cap'n bill knows ever'thing?" "he knows a lot, i expect," soberly answered the boy, finishing the last slice of bread-and-butter and then looking at the empty plate with a sigh; "but if he really knows everthing he knows about the magic umbrella, so i won't have to tell you anything about it." "magic!" cried trot, with big, eager eyes; "did you say _magic_ umbrel, button-bright?" "i said 'magic.' but none of our family knew it was a magic umbrella till i found it out for myself. you're the first people i've told the secret to," he added, glancing into their faces rather uneasily. "glory me!" exclaimed the girl, clapping her hands in ecstacy; "it must be jus' _elegant_ to have a magic umbrel!" cap'n bill coughed. he had a way of coughing when he was suspicious. "magic," he observed gravely, "was once lyin' 'round loose in the world. that was in the dark ages, i guess, when the magic arabian nights was. but the light o' civilization has skeered it away long ago, an' magic's been a lost art since long afore you an' i was born, trot." "i know that fairies still live," said trot, reflectively. she didn't like to contradict cap'n bill, who knew "ever'thing." "so do i," added button-bright. "and i know there's magic still in the world--or in my umbrella, anyhow." "tell us about it!" begged the girl, excitedly. "well," said the boy, "i found it all out by accident. it rained in philadelphia for three whole days, and all the umbrellas in our house were carried out by the family, and lost or mislaid, or something, so that when i wanted to go to uncle bob's house, which is at germantown, there wasn't an umbrella to be found. my governess wouldn't let me go without one, and--" [illustration] "oh," said trot; "do you have a governess?" "yes; but i don't like her; she's cross. she said i couldn't go to uncle bob's because i had no umbrella. instead she told me to go up in the attic and play. i was sorry 'bout that, but i went up in the attic and pretty soon i found in a corner this old umbrella. i didn't care how it looked. it was whole and strong and big, and would keep me from getting wet on the way to uncle bob's. so off i started for the car, but i found the streets awful muddy, and once i stepped in a mud-hole way up to my ankle. "'gee!' i said, 'i wish i could fly through the air to uncle bob's.' "i was holding up the open umbrella when i said that, and as soon as i spoke, the umbrella began lifting me up into the air. i was awful scared, at first, but i held on tight to the handle and it didn't pull very much, either. i was going pretty fast, for when i looked down, all the big buildings were sliding past me so swift that it made me dizzy, and before i really knew what had happened the umbrella settled down and stood me on my feet at uncle bob's front gate. "i didn't tell anybody about the wonderful thing that had happened, 'cause i thought no one would believe me. uncle bob looked sharp at the thing an' said: 'button-bright, how did your father happen to let you take that umbrella?' 'he didn't,' i said. 'father was away at the office, so i found it in the attic an' i jus' took it.' then uncle bob shook his head an' said i ought to leave it alone. he said it was a fam'ly relic that had been handed down from father to son for many generations. but i told him my father had never handed it to me, though i'm his son. uncle bob said our fam'ly always believed that it brought 'em good luck to own this umbrella. he couldn't say why, not knowing its early history, but he was afraid that if i lost the umbrella bad luck would happen to us. so he made me go right home to put the umbrella back where i got it. i was sorry uncle bob was so cross, and i didn't want to go home yet, where the governess was crosser 'n he was. i wonder why folks get cross when it rains? but by that time it had stopped raining, for awhile, anyhow, and uncle bob told me to go straight home and put the umbrella in the attic an' never touch it again. "when i was around the corner i thought i'd see if i could fly as i had before. i'd heard of buffalo, but i didn't know just where it was; so i said to the umbrella: 'take me to buffalo.' "up in the air i went, just as soon as i said it, and the umbrella sailed so fast that i felt as if i was in a gale of wind. it was a long, long trip, and i got awful tired holding onto the handle, but just as i thought i'd have to let go i began to drop down slowly, and then i found myself in the streets of a big city. i put down the umbrella and asked a man what the name of the city was, and he said 'buffalo.'" "how wonderful!" gasped trot. cap'n bill kept on smoking and said nothing. "it was magic, i'm sure," said button-bright. "it surely couldn't have been anything else." "p'raps," suggested trot, "the umbrella can do other magic things." "no," said the boy; "i've tried it. when i landed in buffalo i was hot and thirsty. i had ten cents, car fare, but i was afraid to spend it. so i held up the umbrella and wished i had an ice-cream soda; but i didn't get it. then i wished for a nickel to buy an ice-cream soda with; but i didn't get that, either. i got frightened and was afraid the umbrella didn't have any magic left, so to try it i said: 'take me to chicago.' i didn't want to go to chicago, but that was the first place i thought of, and so i said it. up again i flew, swifter than a bird, and i soon saw this was going to be another long journey; so i called out to the umbrella: 'never mind; stop! i guess i won't go to chicago. i've changed my mind, so take me home again.' but the umbrella wouldn't. it kept right on flying and i shut my eyes and held on. at last i landed in chicago, and then i was in a pretty fix. it was nearly dark and i was too tired and hungry to make the trip home again. i knew i'd get an awful scolding, too, for running away and taking the family luck with me, so i thought that as long as i was in for it i'd better see a good deal of the country while i had the chance. i wouldn't be allowed to come away again, you know." "no, of course not," said trot. "i bought some buns and milk with my ten cents and then i walked around the streets of chicago for a time and afterward slept on a bench in one of the parks. in the morning i tried to get the umbrella to give me a magic breakfast, but it won't do anything but fly. i went to a house and asked a woman for something to eat and she gave me all i wanted and advised me to go straight home before my mother worried about me. she didn't know i lived in philadelphia. that was this morning." "this mornin'!" exclaimed cap'n bill. "why, lad, it takes three or four days for the railroad trains to get to this coast from chicago." "i know," replied button-bright, "but i didn't come on a railroad train. this umbrella goes faster than any train ever did. this morning i flew from chicago to denver, but no one there would give me any lunch. a policeman said he'd put me in jail if he caught me begging, so i got away and told the umbrella to take me to the pacific ocean. when i stopped i landed over there by the big rock. i shut up the umbrella and saw a girl sitting on the rock, so i went up and spoke to her. that's all." "goodness me!" said trot; "if that isn't a fairy story i never heard one." "it _is_ a fairy story," agreed button-bright. "anyhow, it's a magic story, and the funny part of it is, it's true. i hope you believe me; but i don't know as i'd believe it myself, if it hadn't been me that it happened to." "i believe ev'ry word of it!" declared trot, earnestly. "as fer me," said cap'n bill slowly, "i'm goin' to believe it, too, by'm'by, when i've seen the umbrel fly once." "you'll see me fly away with it," asserted the boy. "but at present it's pretty late in the day, and philadelphia is a good way off. do you s'pose, trot, your mother would let me stay here all night?" "course she would!" answered trot. "we've got an extra room with a nice bed in it, and we'd love to have you stay--just as long as you want to--wouldn't we, cap'n bill?" "right you are, mate," replied the old man, nodding his bald head. "whether the umbrel is magic or not, butt'n-bright is welcome." mrs. griffith came out soon after, and seconded the invitation, so the boy felt quite at home in the little cottage. it was not long before supper was on the table and in spite of all the bread-and-butter he had eaten button-bright had a fine appetite for the good things trot's mother had cooked. mrs. griffith was very kind to the children, but not quite so agreeable toward poor cap'n bill. when the old sailorman at one time spilled some tea on the tablecloth trot's mother flew angry and gave the culprit such a tongue-lashing that button-bright was sorry for him. but cap'n bill was meek and made no reply. "he's used to it, you know," whispered trot to her new friend; and, indeed, cap'n bill took it all cheerfully and never minded a bit. then it came trot's turn to get a scolding. when she opened the parcel she had bought at the village it was found she had selected the wrong color of yarn, and mrs. griffith was so provoked that trot's scolding was almost as severe as that of cap'n bill. tears came to the little girl's eyes, and to comfort her the boy promised to take her to the village next morning with his magic umbrella, so she could exchange the yarn for the right color. trot quickly brightened at this promise, although cap'n bill looked grave and shook his head solemnly. when supper was over and trot had helped with the dishes she joined button-bright and the sailorman on the little porch again. dusk had fallen and the moon was just rising. they all sat in silence for a time and watched the silver trail that topped the crests of the waves far out to sea. "oh, button-bright!" cried the little girl, presently; "i'm so glad you're going to let me fly with you--way to town and back--to-morrow. won't it be fine, cap'n bill?" "dunno, trot," said he. "i can't figger how both o' you can hold on to the handle o' that umbrel." trot's face fell. "i'll hold on to the handle," said button-bright, "and she can hold on to me. it doesn't pull hard at all. you've no idea how easy it is to fly that way--after you get used to it." "but trot ain't used to it," objected the sailor. "if she happened to lose her hold and let go, it's good-bye trot. i don't like to risk it, for trot's my chum, an' i can't afford to lose her." "can't you tie us together, then?" asked the boy. "we'll see; we'll see," replied cap'n bill, and began to think very deeply. he forgot that he didn't believe the umbrella could fly, and after button-bright and trot had both gone to bed the old sailor went out into the shed and worked awhile before he, too, turned into his "bunk." the sandman wasn't around and cap'n bill lay awake for hours thinking of the strange tale of the magic umbrella before he finally sank into slumber. then he dreamed about it, and waking or dreaming he found the tale hard to believe. [illustration] a wonderful experience chapter 3. they had early breakfasts at trot's house, because they all went to bed early and it is possible to sleep only a certain number of hours if one is healthy in body and mind. and right after breakfast trot claimed button-bright's promise to take her to town with the magic umbrella. "any time suits me," said the boy. he had taken his precious umbrella to bed with him and even carried it to the breakfast table, where he stood it between his knees as he ate; so now he held it close to him and said he was ready to fly at a moment's notice. this confidence impressed cap'n bill, who said with a sigh: "well, if you _must_ go, trot, i've pervided a machine that'll carry you both comf'table. i'm summat of an inventor myself, though there ain't any magic about me." then he brought from the shed the contrivance he had made the night before. it was merely a swing seat. he had taken a wide board that was just long enough for both the boy and girl to sit upon, and had bored six holes in it--two holes at each end and two in the middle. through these holes he had run stout ropes in such a way that the seat could not turn and the occupants could hold on to the ropes on either side of them. the ropes were all knotted together at the top, where there was a loop that could be hooked upon the crooked handle of the umbrella. [illustration] button-bright and trot both thought cap'n bill's invention very clever. the sailor placed the board upon the ground while they sat in their places, button-bright at the right of trot, and then the boy hooked the rope loop to the handle of the umbrella, which he spread wide open. "i want to go to the town over yonder," he said, pointing with his finger to the roofs of the houses that showed around the bend in the cliff. at once the umbrella rose into the air; slowly, at first, but quickly gathering speed. trot and button-bright held fast to the ropes and were carried along very easily and comfortably. it seemed scarcely a minute before they were in the town, and when the umbrella set them down just in front of the store--for it seemed to know just where they wanted to go--a wondering crowd gathered around them. trot ran in and changed the yarn, while button-bright stayed outside and stared at the people who stared at him. they asked questions, too, wanting to know what sort of an aã«roplane this was, and where his power was stored, and lots of other things; but the boy answered not a word. when the little girl came back and took her seat button-bright said: "i want to go to trot's house." the simple villagers could not understand how the umbrella suddenly lifted the two children into the air and carried them away. they had read of airships, but here was something wholly beyond their comprehension. cap'n bill had stood in front of the house, watching with a feeling akin to bewilderment the flight of the magic umbrella. he could follow its course until it descended in the village and he was so amazed and absorbed that his pipe went out. he had not moved from his position when the umbrella started back. the sailor's big blue eyes watched it draw near and settle down with its passengers upon just the spot it had started from. trot was joyous and greatly excited. "oh, cap'n, it's gal-lor-ious!" she cried in ecstasy. "it beats ridin' in a boat or--or--in anything else. you feel so light an' free an'--an'--glad! i'm sorry the trip didn't last longer, though. only trouble is, you go too fast." button-bright was smiling contentedly. he had proved to both trot and cap'n bill that he had told the truth about the magic umbrella, however marvelous his tale had seemed to them. "i'll take you on another trip, if you like," said he, "i'm in no hurry to go home and if you will let me stay with you another day we can make two or three little trips with the family luck." "you mus' stay a whole week," said trot, decidedly. "an' you mus' take cap'n bill for an air-ride, too." "oh, trot! i dunno as i'd like it," protested cap'n bill, nervously. "yes, you would. you're sure to like it." "i guess i'm too heavy," he said. "i'm sure the umbrella could carry twenty people, if they could be fastened to the handle," said button-bright. "solid land's pretty good to hold on to," decided cap'n bill. "a rope might break, you know." "oh, cap'n bill! you're scared stiff," said trot. "i ain't, mate; it ain't that at all. but i don't see that human critters has any call to fly in the air, anyhow. the air were made for the birds, an'--an' muskeeters, an'--" "an' flyin'-fishes," added trot. "i know all that, cap'n; but why wasn't it made for humans, too, if they can manage to fly in it? we breathe the air, an' we can breathe it high up, just as well as down on the earth." "seein' as you like it so much, trot, it would be cruel for me to go with butt'n-bright an' leave you at home," said the sailor. "when i were younger--which is ancient history--an' afore i had a wooden leg, i could climb a ship's ropes with the best of 'em, an' walk out on a boom, or stand atop a mast. so you know very well i ain't skeert about the highupness." "why can't we all go together?" asked the boy. "make another seat, cap'n, and swing it right under ours; then we can all three ride anywhere we want to go." "yes, do!" exclaimed trot. "and, see here, cap'n; let's take a day off and have a picnic. mother is a little cross, to-day, and she wants to finish knitting your new stockin'; so i guess she'll be glad to get rid of us." "where'll we go?" he asked, shifting on his wooden leg uneasily. "anywhere; i don't care. there'll be the air-ride there, an' the air-ride back, an' that's the main thing with _me_. if you say you'll go, cap'n, i'll run in an' pack a basket of lunch." "how'll we carry it?" "swing it to the bottom of your seat." the old sailor stood silent a moment. he really longed to take the air-ride but was fearful of danger. however, trot had gone safely to town and back and had greatly enjoyed the experience. "all right," he said; "i'll risk it, mate, although i guess i'm an old fool for temptin' fate by tryin' to make a bird o' myself. get the lunch, trot, if your mother'll let you have it, and i'll rig up the seat." he went into the shed and trot went to her mother. mrs. griffith, busy with her work, knew nothing of what was going on in regard to the flight of the magic umbrella. she never objected when trot wanted to go away with cap'n bill for a day's picnicking. she knew the child was perfectly safe with the old sailor, who cared for trot even better than her mother would have done. if she had asked any questions to-day, and had found out they intended to fly in the air, she might have seriously objected; but mrs. griffith had her mind on other things and merely told the girl to take what she wanted from the cupboard and not bother her. so trot, remembering that button-bright would be with them and had proved himself to be a hearty eater, loaded the basket with all the good things she could find. by the time she came out, lugging the basket with both hands, cap'n bill appeared with the new seat he had made for his own use, which he attached by means of ropes to the double seat of the boy and girl. "now, then, where'll we go?" asked trot. "anywhere suits me," replied cap'n bill. they had walked to the high bluff overlooking the sea, where a gigantic acacia tree stood on the very edge. a seat had been built around the trunk of the tree, for this was a favorite spot for trot and cap'n bill to sit and talk and watch the fleet of fishing boats sail to and from the village. when they came to this tree trot was still trying to think of the most pleasant place to picnic. she and cap'n bill had been every place that was desirable and near by, but to-day they didn't want a near-by spot. they must decide upon one far enough away to afford them a fine trip through the air. looking far out over the pacific, the girl's eyes fell upon a dim island lying on the horizon line--just where the sky and water seemed to meet--and the sight gave her an idea. "oh, cap'n bill!" she exclaimed, "let's go to that island for our picnic. we've never been there yet, you know." the sailor shook his head. "it's a good many miles away, trot," he said; "further than it looks to be, from here." "that won't matter," remarked button-bright; "the umbrella will carry us there in no time." "let's go!" repeated trot. "we'll never have another such chance, cap'n. it's too far to sail or row, and i've always wanted to visit that island." "what's the name of it?" inquired button-bright, while the sailor hesitated how to decide. "oh, it's got an awful hard name to pernounce," replied the girl, "so cap'n bill and i jus' call it 'sky island,' 'cause it looks as if it was half in the sky. we've been told it's a very pretty island, and a few people live there and keep cows and goats, and fish for a living. there are woods and pastures and springs of clear water, and i'm sure we would find it a fine place for a picnic." "if anything happened on the way," observed cap'n bill, "we'd drop in the water." "of course," said trot; "and if anything happened while we were flyin' over the land we'd drop there. but nothing's goin' to happen, cap'n. didn't button-bright come safe all the way from philydelfy?" "i think i'd like to go to sky island," said the boy. "i've always flown above the land, so far, and it will be something new to fly over the ocean." "all right; i'm agree'ble," decided cap'n bill. "but afore we starts on such a long journey, s'pose we make a little trial trip along the coast. i want to see if the new seat fits me, an' make certain the umbrel will carry all three of us." "very well," said button-bright. "where shall we go?" "let's go as far as smuggler's cove, an' then turn 'round an' come back. if all's right an' shipshape, then we can start for the island." they put the broad double seat on the ground and then the boy and girl sat in their places and button-bright spread open the magic umbrella. cap'n bill sat in his seat just in front of them, all being upon the ground. "don't we look funny?" said trot, with a chuckle of glee. "but hold fast the ropes, cap'n, an' take care of your wooden leg." button-bright addressed the umbrella, speaking to it very respectfully, for it was a thing to inspire awe. "i want to go as far as smuggler's cove, and then turn around in the air and come back here," he said. at once the umbrella rose into the air, lifting after it, first the seat in which the children sat, and then cap'n bill's seat. "don't kick your heels, trot!" cried the sailor in a voice that proved he was excited by his novel experience; "you might bump me in the nose." "all right," she called back; "i'll be careful." it was really a wonderful, exhilarating ride, and cap'n bill wasn't long making up his mind he liked the sensation. when about fifty feet above the ground the umbrella began moving along the coast toward smuggler's cove, which it soon reached. looking downward, cap'n bill suddenly exclaimed: "why, there's a boat cast loose, an' it's goin' to smash on the rocks. hold on a minute, butt'n-bright, till we can land an' drag it ashore." "hold on a minute, umbrella!" cried the boy. but the magic umbrella kept steadily upon its way. it made a circle over the cove and then started straight back the way it had come. "it's no use, sir," said button-bright to the sailor. "if i once tell it to go to a certain place, the umbrella will go there, and nowhere else. i've found that out before this. you simply _can't_ stop it." "won't let you change your mind, eh?" replied cap'n bill. "well, that has its advantidges, an' its disadvantidges. if your ol' umbrel hadn't been so obstinate we could have saved that boat." "never mind," said trot, briskly; "here we are safe back again. wasn't it jus' the--the fascinatingest ride you ever took, cap'n?" "it's pretty good fun," admitted cap'n bill. "beats them aã«roplanes an' things all holler, 'cause it don't need any regulatin'." "if we're going to that island we may as well start right away," said button-bright, when they had safely landed. "all right; i'll tie on the lunch-basket," answered the sailor. he fastened it so it would swing underneath his own seat and then they all took their places again. "ready?" asked the boy. "let'er go, my lad." "i want to go to sky island," said button-bright to the umbrella, using the name trot had given him. the umbrella started promptly. it rose higher than before, carrying the three voyagers with it, and then started straight away over the ocean. [illustration] [illustration] the island in the sky chapter 4. they clung tightly to the ropes, but the breeze was with them, so after a few moments, when they became accustomed to the motion, they began to enjoy the ride immensely. larger and larger grew the island, and although they were headed directly toward it, the umbrella seemed to rise higher and higher into the air the farther it traveled. they had not journeyed ten minutes before they came directly over the island, and looking down they could see the forests and meadows far below them. but the umbrella kept up its rapid flight. "hold on, there!" cried cap'n bill. "if it ain't keerful the ol' thing will pass way by the island." "i--i'm sure it has passed it already," exclaimed trot "what's wrong, button-bright? why don't we stop?" button-bright seemed astonished too. "perhaps i didn't say it right," he replied, after a moment's thought. then, looking up at the umbrella, he repeated, distinctly: "i said i wanted to go to sky island! sky island; don't you understand?" the umbrella swept steadily along, getting farther and farther out to sea and rising higher and higher toward the clouds. "mack'rel an' herrings!" roared cap'n bill, now really frightened; "ain't there any blamed way at all to stop her?" "none that i know of," said button-bright, anxiously. "p'raps," said trot, after a pause during which she tried hard to think, "p'raps 'sky island' isn't the name of that island, at all." "why, we know very well it ain't the name of it," yelled cap'n bill, from below. "we jus' called it that 'cause its right name is too hard to say." "that's the whole trouble, then," returned button-bright. "somewhere in the world there's a real sky island, and having told the magic umbrella to take us there, it's going to do so." "well, i declare!" gasped the sailorman; "can't we land anywhere else?" "not unless you care to tumble off," said the boy. "i've told the umbrella to take us to sky island, so that's the exact place we're bound for. i'm sorry. it was your fault for giving me the wrong name." they glided along in silence for a while. the island was now far behind them, growing small in the distance. "where do you s'pose the real sky island can be?" asked trot presently. "we can't tell anything about it until we get there," button-bright answered. "seems to me i've heard of the isle of skye, but that's over in great britain, somewhere the other side of the world; and it isn't sky island, anyhow." "this miser'ble ol' umbrel is too pertic'ler," growled cap'n bill. "it won't let you change your mind an' it goes ezzac'ly where you say." "if it didn't," said trot, "we'd never know where we were going." "we don't know now," said the sailor. "one thing's certain, folks: we're gett'n' a long way from home." "and see how the clouds are rolling just above us," remarked the boy, who was almost as uneasy as cap'n bill. "we're in the sky, all right," said the girl. "if there could be an island up here, among the clouds, i'd think it was there we're going." "couldn't there be one?" asked button-bright. "why couldn't there be an island in the sky that would be named sky island?" "of course not!" declared cap'n bill. "there wouldn't be anything to hold it up, you know." "what's holding _us_ up?" asked trot. "magic, i guess." "then magic might hold an island in the sky.... whee-e-e-e! what a black cloud!" it grew suddenly dark, for they were rushing through a thick cloud that rolled around them in billows. trot felt little drops of moisture striking her face and knew her clothing was getting damp and soggy. [illustration] "it's a rain cloud," she said to button-bright, "and it seems like an awful big one, 'cause it takes so long for us to pass through it." the umbrella never hesitated a moment. it made a path through the length of the heavy black cloud at last and carried its passengers into a misty, billowy bank of white, which seemed as soft and fleecy as a lady's veil. when this broke away they caught sight of a majestic rainbow spanning the heavens, its gorgeous colors glinting brightly in the sun, its arch perfect and unbroken from end to end. but it was only a glimpse they had, for quickly they dove into another bank of clouds and the rainbow disappeared. here the clouds were not black, nor heavy, but they assumed queer shapes. some were like huge ships, some like forest trees, and others piled themselves into semblances of turreted castles and wonderful palaces. the shapes shifted here and there continually and the voyagers began to be bewildered by the phantoms. "seems to me we're goin' down," called trot. "down where?" asked cap'n bill. "who knows?" said button-bright. "but we're dropping, all right." it was a gradual descent. the magic umbrella maintained a uniform speed, swift and unfaltering, but its path through the heavens was now in the shape of an arch, as a flying arrow falls. the queer shapes of the clouds continued for some time, and once or twice trot was a little frightened when a monstrous airy dragon passed beside them, or a huge giant stood upon a peak of cloud and stared savagely at the intruders into his domain. but none of these fanciful, vapory creatures seemed inclined to molest them or to interfere with their flight and after a while the umbrella dipped below this queer cloudland and entered a clear space where the sky was of an exquisite blue color. "oh, look!" called cap'n bill. "there's land below us." the boy and girl leaned over and tried to see this land, but cap'n bill was also leaning over and his big body hid all that was just underneath them. "is it an island?" asked trot, anxiously. "seems so," the old sailor replied. "the blue is around all one side of it an' a pink sunshine around the other side. there's a big cloud just over the middle; but i guess it's surely an island, trot, an' bein' as it's in the sky, it's likely to be sky island." "then we shall land there," said the boy confidently. "i knew the umbrella couldn't make a mistake." presently cap'n bill spoke again. "we're goin' down on the blue part o' the island," he said. "i can see trees, an' ponds, an' houses. hold tight, trot! hold tight, butt'n-bright! i'm afeared we're a-goin' to bump somethin'!" they were certainly dropping very quickly, now, and the rush of air made their eyes fill with water, so that they could not see much below them. suddenly the basket that was dangling below cap'n bill's seat struck something with a loud thud and this was followed by a yell of anger. cap'n bill sat flat upon the ground, landing with a force that jarred the sailorman and made his teeth click together, while down upon him came the seat that trot and button-bright occupied, so that for a moment they were all tangled up. "get off from me! get off from my feet, i say!" cried an excited voice. "what in the sky do you mean by sitting on my feet? get off! get off at once!" [illustration] [illustration] the boolooroo of the blues chapter 5. cap'n bill suspected that these remarks were addressed to him, but he couldn't move just then because the seat was across him, and a boy and girl were sprawling on the seat. as the magic umbrella was now as motionless as any ordinary umbrella might be, button-bright first released the catch and closed it up, after which he unhooked the crooked handle from the rope and rose to his feet. trot had managed by this time to stand up and she pulled the board off from cap'n bill. all this time the shrill, excited voice was loudly complaining because the sailor was on his feet, and trot looked to see who was making the protest, while cap'n bill rolled over and got on his hands and knees so he could pull his meat leg and his wooden leg into an upright position, which wasn't a very easy thing to do. button-bright and trot were staring with all their might at the queerest person they had ever seen. they decided it must be a man, because he had two long legs, a body as round as a ball, a neck like an ostrich and a comical little head set on the top of it. but the most curious thing about him was his skin, which was of a lovely sky-blue tint. his eyes were also sky-blue, and his hair, which was trained straight up and ended in a curl at the top of his head, was likewise blue in color and matched his skin and his eyes. he wore tight-fitting clothes made of sky-blue silk, with a broad blue ruffle around his long neck, and on his breast glittered a magnificent jewel in the form of a star, set with splendid blue stones. if the blue man astonished the travelers they were no less surprised by his surroundings, for look where they might, everything they beheld was of the same blue color as the sky above. they seemed to have landed in a large garden, surrounded by a high wall of blue stone. the trees were all blue, the grass was blue, the flowers were blue and even the pebbles in the paths were blue. there were many handsomely carved benches and seats of blue wood scattered about the garden, and near them stood a fountain, made of blue marble, which shot lovely sprays of blue water into the blue air. but the angry inhabitant of this blue place would not permit them to look around them in peace, for as soon as cap'n bill rolled off his toes he began dancing around in an excited way and saying very disrespectful things of his visitors. "you brutes! you apes! you miserable white-skinned creatures! how dare you come into my garden and knock me on the head with that awful basket and then fall on my toes and cause me pain and suffering? how dare you, i say? don't you know you will be punished for your impudence? don't you know the boolooroo of the blues will have revenge? i can have you patched for this insult, and i will--just as sure as i'm the royal boolooroo of sky island!" "oh, is this sky island, then?" asked trot. "of course it's sky island. what else could it be? and i'm its ruler--its king--its sole royal potentate and dictator. behold in the personage you have injured the mighty quitey righty boolooroo of the blues!" here he strutted around in a very pompous manner and wagged his little head contemptuously at them. "glad to meet you, sir," said cap'n bill. "i allus had a likin' for kings, bein' as they're summat unusual. please 'scuse me for a-sittin' on your royal toes, not knowin' as your toes were there." "i won't excuse you!" roared the boolooroo. "but i'll punish you. you may depend upon that." "seems to me," said trot, "you're actin' rather imperlite to strangers. if anyone comes to our country to visit us, we always treat 'em decent." "_your_ country!" exclaimed the boolooroo, looking at them more carefully and seeming interested in their appearance. "where in the sky did you come from, then, and where is your country located?" "we live on the earth, when we're at home," replied the girl. "the earth? nonsense! i've heard of the earth, my child, but it isn't inhabited. no one can live there because it's just a round, cold, barren ball of mud and water," declared the blueskin. "oh, you're wrong about that," said button-bright. "you surely are," added cap'n bill. "why, we live there ourselves," cried trot. "i don't believe it. i believe you are living in sky island, where you have no right to be, with your horrid white skins. and you've intruded into the private garden of the palace of the greatly stately irately boolooroo, which is a criminal offense; and you've bumped my head with your basket and smashed my toes with your boards and bodies, which is a crime unparalleled in all the history of sky island! aren't you sorry for yourselves?" "i'm sorry for you," replied trot, "'cause you don't seem to know the proper way to treat visitors. but we won't stay long. we'll go home, pretty soon." "not until you have been punished!" exclaimed the boolooroo, sternly. "you are my prisoners." "beg parding, your majesty," said cap'n bill, "but you're takin' a good deal for granted. we've tried to be friendly an' peaceable, an' we've 'poligized for hurtin' you; but if that don't satisfy you, you'll have to make the most of it. you may be the boolooroo of the blues, but you ain't even a tin whistle to us, an' you can't skeer us for half a minute. i'm an ol' man, myself, but if you don't behave i'll spank you like i would a baby, an' it won't be any trouble at all to do it, thank'e. as a matter o' fact, we've captured your whole bloomin' blue island, but we don't like the place very much, and i guess we'll give it back. it gives us the blues--don't it, trot?--so as soon as we eat a bite o' lunch from our basket we'll sail away again." "sail away? how?" asked the boolooroo. "with the magic umbrel," said cap'n bill, pointing to the umbrella that button-bright was holding underneath his arm. "oh, ho! i see--i see," said the boolooroo, nodding his funny head. "go ahead, then, and eat your lunch." he retreated a little way to a marble seat beside the fountain, but watched the strangers carefully. cap'n bill, feeling sure he had won the argument, whispered to the boy and girl that they must eat and get away as soon as possible, as this might prove a dangerous country for them to remain in. trot longed to see more of the strange blue island, and especially wanted to explore the magnificent blue palace that adjoined the garden, and which had six hundred tall towers and turrets; but she felt that her old friend was wise in advising them to get away quickly. so she opened the basket and they all three sat in a row on a stone bench and began to eat sandwiches and cake and pickles and cheese and all the good things that were packed in the lunch basket. they were hungry from the long ride, and while they ate they kept their eyes busily employed in examining all the queer things around them. the boolooroo seemed quite the queerest of anything, and trot noticed that when he pulled the long curl that stuck up from the top of his head a bell tinkled somewhere in the palace. he next pulled at the bottom of his right ear, and another far-away bell tinkled; then he touched the end of his nose and still another bell was faintly heard. the boolooroo said not a word while he was ringing the bells, and trot wondered if that was the way he amused himself. but now the frown died away from his face and was replaced by a look of satisfaction. "have you nearly finished?" he inquired. "no," said trot; "we've got to eat our apples yet." "apples--apples? what are apples?" he asked. trot took some from the basket. "have one?" she said. "they're awful good." the boolooroo advanced a step and took the apple, which he regarded with much curiosity. "guess they don't grow anywhere but on the earth," remarked cap'n bill. "are they good to eat?" asked the boolooroo. "try it and see," answered trot, biting into an apple herself. the blueskin sat down on the end of their bench, next to button-bright, and began to eat his apple. he seemed to like it, for he finished it in a hurry, and when it was gone he picked up the magic umbrella. "let that alone!" said button-bright, making a grab for it. but the boolooroo jerked it away in an instant and standing up he held the umbrella behind him and laughed aloud. "now, then," said he, "you can't get away until i'm willing to let you go. you are my prisoners." "i guess not," returned cap'n bill, and reaching out one of his long arms, the sailorman suddenly grasped the boolooroo around his long, thin neck and shook him until his whole body fluttered like a flag. "drop that umbrel--drop it!" yelled cap'n bill, and the boolooroo quickly obeyed. the magic umbrella fell to the ground and button-bright promptly seized it. then the sailor let go his hold and the king staggered to a seat, choking and coughing to get his breath back. "i told you to let things alone," growled cap'n bill. "if you don't behave, your majesty, this blue island'll have to get another boolooroo." "why?" asked the blueskin. "because i'll prob'ly spoil you for a king, an' mebbe for anything else. anyhow, you'll get badly damaged if you try to interfere with us--an' that's a fact." "don't kill him, cap'n bill," said trot, cheerfully. "kill me? why, he couldn't do that," observed the king, who was trying to rearrange the ruffle around his neck. "nothing can kill me." "why not?" asked cap'n bill. "because i haven't lived my six hundred years yet. perhaps you don't know that every blueskin in sky island lives exactly six hundred years from the time he is born." "no; i didn't know that," admitted the sailor. "it's a fact," said the king. "nothing can kill us until we've lived to the last day of our appointed lives. when the final minute is up, we die; but we're obliged to live all of the six hundred years, whether we want to or not. so you needn't think of trying to kill anybody on sky island. it can't be done." "never mind," said cap'n bill. "i'm no murderer, thank goodness, and i wouldn't kill you if i could--much as you deserve it." "but isn't six hundred years an awful long time to live?" questioned trot. "it seems like it, at first," replied the king, "but i notice that whenever any of my subjects get near the end of their six hundred, they grow nervous and say the life is altogether too short." "how long have you lived?" asked button-bright. the king coughed again and turned a bit bluer. "that is considered an impertinent question in sky island," he answered; "but i will say that every boolooroo is elected to reign three hundred years, and i've reigned not quite--ahem!--two hundred." "are your kings elected, then?" asked cap'n bill. "yes, of course; this is a republic, you know. the people elect all their officers, from the king down. every man and every woman is a voter. the boolooroo tells them whom to vote for, and if they don't obey they are severely punished. it's a fine system of government, and the only thing i object to is electing the boolooroo for only three hundred years. it ought to be for life. my successor has already been elected, but he can't reign for a hundred years to come." "i think three hundred years is plenty long enough," said trot. "it gives some one else a chance to rule, an' i wouldn't be s'prised if the next king is a better one. seems to me you're not much of a boolooroo." "that," replied the king, indignantly, "is a matter of opinion. i like myself very much, but i can't expect you to like me, because you're deformed and ignorant." "i'm not!" cried trot. "yes, you are. your legs are too short and your neck is nothing at all. your color is most peculiar, but there isn't a shade of blue about any of you, except the deep blue color of the clothes the old ape that choked me wears. also, you are ignorant, because you know nothing of sky island, which is the center of the universe and the only place anyone would care to live." "don't listen to him, trot," said button-bright; "he's an ignorant himself." cap'n bill packed up the lunch basket. one end of the rope was still tied to the handle of the basket and the other end to his swing seat, which lay on the ground before them. "well," said he, "let's go home. we've seen enough of this blue country and its blue boolooroo, i guess, an' it's a long journey back again." "all right," agreed trot, jumping up. button-bright stood on the bench and held up the magic umbrella, so he could open it, and the sailor had just attached the ropes when a thin blue line shot out from behind them and in a twinkling wound itself around the umbrella. at the same instant another blue cord wound itself around the boy's body, and others caught trot and cap'n bill in their coils, so that all had their arms pinned fast to their sides and found themselves absolutely helpless. [illustration] the six snubnosed princesses chapter 6. the boolooroo was laughing and dancing around in front of them as if well pleased. for a moment the prisoners could not imagine what had happened to them, but presently half a dozen blueskins, resembling in shape and costume their ruler but less magnificently dressed, stepped in front of them and bowed low to the boolooroo. "your orders, most mighty, flighty, tight and righty monarch, have been obeyed," said the leader. "very well, captain. take that umbrella and carry it to my royal treasury. see that it is safely locked up. here's the key, and if you don't return it to me within five minutes i'll have you patched." the captain took the key and the magic umbrella and hastened away to the palace. button-bright had already hooked the ropes to the elephant-trunk handle, so that when the captain carried away the umbrella he dragged after him first the double seat, then cap'n bill's seat, which was fastened to it, and finally the lunch-basket, which was attached to the lower seat. at every few steps some of these would trip up the captain and cause him to take a tumble, but as he had only five minutes' time in which to perform his errand he would scramble to his feet again and dash along the path until a board or the basket tripped him again. they all watched him with interest until he had disappeared within the palace, when the king turned to his men and said: "release the prisoners. they are now quite safe, and cannot escape me." so the men unwound the long cords that were twined around the bodies of our three friends, and set them free. these men seemed to be soldiers, although they bore no arms except the cords. each cord had a weight at the end, and when the weight was skillfully thrown by a soldier it wound the cord around anything in the twinkling of an eye and held fast until it was unwound again. trot decided these blueskins must have stolen into the garden when summoned by the bells the boolooroo had rung, but they had kept out of sight and crept up behind the bench on which our friends were seated, until a signal from the king aroused them to action. the little girl was greatly surprised by the suddenness of her capture, and so was button-bright. cap'n bill shook his head and said he was afeared they'd get into trouble. "our mistake," he added, "was in stoppin' to eat our lunch. but it's too late now to cry over spilt milk." "i don't mind; not much, anyhow," asserted trot, bravely. "we're in no hurry to get back; are we, button-bright?" [illustration] "i'm not," said the boy. "if they hadn't taken the umbrella i wouldn't care how long we stopped in this funny island. do you think it's a fairy country, trot?" "can't say, i'm sure," she answered. "i haven't seen anything here yet that reminds me of fairies; but cap'n bill said a floating island in the sky was sure to be a fairyland." "i think so yet, mate," returned the sailor. "but there's all sorts o' fairies, i've heard. some is good, an' some is bad, an' if all the blueskins are like their boolooroo they can't be called fust-class." "don't let me hear any more impudence, prisoners!" called the boolooroo, sternly. "you are already condemned to severe punishment, and if i have any further trouble with you, you are liable to be patched." "what's being patched?" inquired the girl. the soldiers all laughed at this question, but the king did not reply. just then a door in the palace opened and out trooped a group of girls. there were six of them, all gorgeously dressed in silken gowns with many puffs and tucks and ruffles and flounces and laces and ribbons, everything being in some shade of blue, grading from light blue to deep blue. their blue hair was elaborately dressed and came to a point at the top of their heads. the girls approached in a line along the garden path, all walking with mincing steps and holding their chins high. their skirts prevented their long legs from appearing as grotesque as did those of the men, but their necks were so thin and long that the ruffles around them only made them seem the more absurd. "ah," said the king, with a frown, "here come the six snubnosed princesses--the most beautiful and aristocratic ladies in sky island." "they're snubnosed, all right," observed trot, looking at the girls with much interest; "but i should think it would make 'em mad to call 'em that." "why?" asked the boolooroo, in surprise. "is not a snubnose the highest mark of female beauty?" "is it?" asked the girl. "most certainly. in this favored island, which is the center of the universe, a snubnose is an evidence of high breeding which any lady would be proud to possess." [illustration] the six snubnosed princesses now approached the fountain and stood in a row, staring with haughty looks at the strangers. "goodness me, your majesty!" exclaimed the first; "what queer, dreadful-looking creatures are these? where in all the sky did they come from?" "they say they came from the earth, cerulia," answered the boolooroo. "but that is impossible," said another princess. "our scientists have proved that the earth is not inhabited." "your scientists'll have to guess again, then," said trot. "but how did they get to sky island?" inquired the third snubnosed one. "by means of a magic umbrella, which i have captured and put away in my treasure chamber," replied the boolooroo. "what will you do with the monsters, papa?" asked the fourth princess. "i haven't decided yet," said the boolooroo. "they're curiosities, you see, and may serve to amuse us. but as they're only half civilized i shall make them my slaves." "what are they good for? can they do anything useful?" asked the fifth. "we'll see," returned the king, impatiently. "i can't decide in a hurry. give me time, azure; give me time. if there's anything i hate it's a hurry." "i've an idea, your majesty," announced the sixth snubnosed princess, whose complexion was rather darker than that of her sisters, "and it has come to me quite deliberately, without any hurry at all. let us take the little girl to be our maid--to wait upon us and amuse us when we're dull. all the other ladies of the court will be wild with envy, and if the child doesn't prove of use to us we can keep her for a living pincushion." "oh! ah! that will be fine!" cried all the other five, and the boolooroo said: "very well, indigo; it shall be as you desire." then he turned to trot and added: "i present you to the six lovely snubnosed princesses, to be their slave. if you are good and obedient you won't get your ears boxed oftener than once an hour." "i won't be anybody's slave," protested trot. "i don't like these snubnosed, fussy females an' i won't have anything to do with 'em." "how impudent!" cried cerulia. "how vulgar!" cried turquoise. "how unladylike!" cried sapphire. "how silly!" cried azure. "how absurd!" cried cobalt. "how wicked!" cried indigo. and then all six held up their hands as if horrified. the boolooroo laughed. "you'll know how to bring her to time, i imagine," he remarked, "and if the girl isn't reasonable and obedient, send her to me and i'll have her patched. now, then, take her away." but trot was obstinate and wouldn't budge a step. "keep us together, your majesty," begged cap'n bill. "if we're to be slaves, don't separate us, but make us all the same kind o' slaves." "i shall do what pleases me," declared the boolooroo, angrily. "don't try to dictate, old moonface, for there's only one royal will in sky island, and that's my own." he then gave a command to a soldier, who hastened away to the palace and soon returned with a number of long blue ribbons. one he tied around trot's waist and then attached to it six other ribbons. each of the six snubnosed princesses held the end of a ribbon, and then they turned and marched haughtily away to the palace, dragging the little girl after them. "don't worry, trot," cried button-bright; "we'll get you out of this trouble pretty soon." "trust to us, mate," added cap'n bill; "we'll manage to take care o' you." "oh, i'm all right," answered trot, with fine courage; "i'm not afraid of these gawkies." but the princesses pulled her after them and soon they had all disappeared into one of the entrances to the blue palace. "now, then," said the boolooroo, "i will instruct you two in your future duties. i shall make old moonface--" "my name's cap'n bill weedles," interrupted the sailor. "i don't care what your name is; i shall call you old moonface," replied the king, "for that suits you quite well. i shall appoint you the royal nectar mixer to the court of sky island, and if you don't mix our nectar properly i'll have you patched. "how do you mix it?" asked cap'n bill. "i don't mix it; it's not the boolooroo's place to mix nectar," was the stern reply. "but you may inquire of the palace servants and perhaps the royal chef or the majordomo will condescend to tell you. take him to the servants' quarters, captain ultramarine, and give him a suit of the royal livery." so cap'n bill was led away by the chief of the soldiers, and when he had gone the king said to button-bright: "you, slave, shall be the royal bootblue. your duty will be to keep the boots and shoes of the royal family nicely polished with blue." "i don't know how," answered button-bright, surlily. "you'll soon learn. the royal steward will supply you with blue paste, and when you've brushed this on our shoes you must shine them with q-rays of moonshine. do you understand?" "no," said button-bright. then the boolooroo told one of the soldiers to take the boy to the shoeblue den and have him instructed in his duties, and the soldier promptly obeyed and dragged button-bright away to the end of the palace where the servants lived. [illustration] ghip-ghisizzle proves friendly chapter 7. the royal palace was certainly a magnificent building, with large and lofty rooms and superb furnishings, all being in shades of blue. the soldier and the boy passed through several broad corridors and then came to a big hall where many servants were congregated. these were staring in bewilderment at cap'n bill, who had been introduced to them by captain ultramarine. now they turned in no less surprise to examine the boy, and their looks expressed not only astonishment but dislike. the servants were all richly attired in blue silk liveries and they seemed disposed to resent the fact that these strangers had been added to their ranks. they scowled and muttered and behaved in a very unfriendly way, even after captain ultramarine had explained that the newcomers were merely base slaves, and not to be classed with the free royal servants of the palace. one of those present, however, showed no especial enmity to button-bright and cap'n bill, and this blueskin attracted the boy's notice because his appearance was so strange. he looked as if he were made of two separate men, each cut through the middle and then joined together, half of one to half of the other. one side of his blue hair was curly and the other half straight; one ear was big and stuck out from the side of his head, while the other ear was small and flat; one eye was half shut and twinkling while the other was big and staring; his nose was thin on one side and flat on the other, while one side of his mouth curled up and the other down. button-bright also noticed that he limped as he walked, because one leg was a trifle longer than the other, and that one hand was delicate and slender and the other thick and hardened by use. "don't stare at him," a voice whispered in the boy's ear; "the poor fellow has been patched, that's all." button-bright turned to see who had spoken and found by his side a tall young blueskin with a blue-gold chain around his neck. he was quite the best looking person the boy had seen in sky island and he spoke in a pleasant way and seemed quite friendly. but the two-sided man had overheard the remark and he now stepped forward and said, in a careless tone: "never mind; it's no disgrace to be patched in a country ruled by such a cruel boolooroo as we have. let the boy look at me, if he wants to; i'm not pretty, but that's not my fault. blame the boolooroo." "i--i'm glad to meet you, sir," stammered button-bright. "what is _your_ name, please?" "i'm now named jimfred jonesjinks, and my partner is called fredjim jinksjones. he's busy at present guarding the treasure chamber, but i'll introduce you to him when he comes back. we've had the misfortune to be patched, you know." "what is being patched?" asked the boy. "they cut two of us in halves and mismatch the halves--half of one to half of the other, you know--and then the other two halves are patched together. it destroys our individuality and makes us complex creatures, so it's the worst punishment than can be inflicted in sky island." "oh," said button-bright, alarmed at such dreadful butchery; "doesn't it hurt?" "no; it doesn't hurt," replied jimfred, "but it makes one frightfully nervous. they stand you under a big knife, which drops and slices you neatly in two--exactly in the middle. then they match half of you to another person who has likewise been sliced--and there you are, patched to someone you don't care about and haven't much interest in. if your half wants to do something, the other half is likely to want to do something different, and the funny part of it is you don't quite know which is your half and which is the other half. it's a terrible punishment, and in a country where one can't die or be killed until he has lived his six hundred years, to be patched is a great misfortune." "i'm sure it is," said button-bright, earnestly. "but can't you ever get--get--_un_-patched again?" "if the boolooroo would consent, i think it could be done," jimfred replied; "but he never will consent. this is about the meanest boolooroo who ever ruled this land, and he was the first to invent patching people as a punishment. i think we will all be glad when his three hundred years of rule are ended." "when will that be?" inquired the boy. "hush-sh-sh!" cried everyone, in a chorus, and they all looked over their shoulders as if frightened by the question. the officer with the blue-gold chain pulled button-bright's sleeve and whispered: "follow me, please." and then he beckoned to cap'n bill and led the two slaves to another room, where they were alone. "i must instruct you in your duties," said he, when they were all comfortably seated in cosy chairs with blue cushions. "you must learn how to obey the boolooroo's commands, so he won't become angry and have you patched." "how could he patch _us_?" asked the sailorman, curiously. "oh, he'd just slice you all in halves and then patch half of the boy to half of the girl, and the other half to half of you, and the other half of you to the other half of the girl. see?" "can't say i do," said cap'n bill, much bewildered. "it's a reg'lar mix-up." "that's what it's meant to be," explained the young officer. "an' seein' as we're earth folks, an' not natives of sky island, i've an idea the slicing machine would about end us, without bein' patched," continued the sailor. "oh," said button-bright; "so it would." "while you are in this country you can't die till you've lived six hundred years," declared the officer. "oh," said button-bright; "that's different, of course. but who are you, please?" "my name is ghip-ghi-siz-zle. can you remember it?" "i can 'member the 'sizzle,'" said the boy; "but i'm 'fraid the gwip--grip--glip----" "ghip-ghi-siz-zle," repeated the officer, slowly. "i want you to remember my name, because if you are going to live here you are sure to hear of me a great many times. can you keep a secret?" "i can try," said button-bright. "i've kep' secrets--once in a while," asserted cap'n bill. "well, try to keep this one. i'm to be the next boolooroo of sky island." "good for you!" cried the sailor. "i wish you was the boolooroo now, sir. but it seems you' ve got to wait a hundred years or more afore you can take his place." ghip-ghisizzle rose to his feet and paced up and down the room for a time, a frown upon his blue face. then he halted and faced cap'n bill. "sir," said he, "there lies all my trouble. i'm quite sure the present boolooroo has reigned three hundred years next thursday; but he claims it is only two hundred years, and as he holds the royal book of records under lock and key in the royal treasury, there is no way for us to prove he is wrong." "oh," said button-bright. "how old is the boolooroo?" "he was two hundred years old when he was elected," replied ghip-ghisizzle. "if he has already reigned three hundred years, as i suspect, then he is now five hundred years old. you see, he is trying to steal another hundred years of rule, so as to remain a tyrant all his life." "he don't seem as old as that," observed cap'n bill, thoughtfully. "why, i'm only sixty, myself, an' i guess i look twice as old as your king does." "we do not show our age in looks," the officer answered. "i am just about your own age, sir--sixty-two my next birth-day--but i'm sure i don't look as old as you." "that's a fact," agreed cap'n bill. then he turned to button-bright and added: "don't that prove sky island is a fairy country, as i said?" "oh, i've known that all along," said the boy. "the slicing and patching proves it, and so do lots of other things." "now, then," said ghip-ghisizzle, "let us talk over your duties. it seems you must mix the royal nectar, cap'n bill. do you know how to do that?" "i'm free to say as i don't, friend sizzle." "the boolooroo is very particular about his nectar. i think he has given you this job so he can find fault with you and have you punished. but we will fool him. you are strangers here, and i don't want you imposed upon. i'll send tiggle to the royal pantry and keep him there to mix the nectar. then when the boolooroo, or the queen, or any of the snubnosed princesses call for a drink, you can carry it to them and it will be sure to suit them." "thank'e, sir," said cap'n bill; "that's real kind of you." "your job, button-bright, is easier," continued ghip-ghisizzle. "i'm no bootblack," declared the boy. "the boolooroo has no right to make me do his dirty work." "you're a slave," the officer reminded him; "and a slave must obey." "why?" asked button-bright. "because he can't help himself. no slave ever wants to obey, but he just has to. and it isn't dirty work at all. you don't black the royal boots and shoes; you merely blue them with a finely perfumed blue paste. then you shine them neatly and your task is done. you will not be humiliated by becoming a bootblack. you'll be a bootblue." "oh," said button-bright. "i don't see much difference, but perhaps it's a little more respectable." "yes; the royal bootblue is considered a high official in sky island. you do your work at evening or early morning, and the rest of the day you are at liberty to do as you please." "it won't last long, button-bright," said cap'n bill, consolingly. "somethin's bound to happen pretty soon, you know." "i think so myself," answered the boy. "and now," remarked ghip-ghisizzle, "since you understand your new duties, perhaps you'd like to walk out with me and see the blue city and the glorious blue country of sky island." "we would that!" cried cap'n bill, promptly. so they accompanied their new friend through a maze of passages--for the palace was very big--and then through a high arched portal into the streets of the city. so rapid had been their descent when the umbrella landed them in the royal garden that they had not even caught a glimpse of the blue city, so now they gazed with wonder and interest at the splendid sights that met their eyes. [illustration] the blue city chapter 8. the blue city was quite extensive, and consisted of many broad streets paved with blue marble and lined with splendid buildings of the same beautiful material. there were houses and castles and shops for the merchants and all were prettily designed and had many slender spires and imposing turrets that rose far into the blue air. everything was blue here, just as was everything in the royal palace and gardens, and a blue haze overhung all the city. "doesn't the sun ever shine?" asked cap'n bill. "not in the blue part of sky island," replied ghip-ghisizzle. "the moon shines here every night, but we never see the sun. i am told, however, that on the other half of the island--which i have never seen--the sun shines brightly but there is no moon at all." "oh," said button-bright; "is there another half to sky island?" "yes; a dreadful place called the pink country. i'm told everything there is pink instead of blue. a fearful place it must be, indeed!" said the blueskin, with a shudder. "i dunno 'bout that," remarked cap'n bill. "that pink country sounds kind o' cheerful to me. is your blue country very big?" [illustration] "it is immense," was the proud reply. "this enormous city extends a half mile in all directions from the center, and the country outside the city is fully a half mile further in extent. that's very big, isn't it?" "not very," replied cap'n bill, with a smile. "we've cities on the earth ten times bigger--an' then some big besides. we'd call this a small town in our country." "our country is thousands of miles wide and thousands of miles long--it's the great united states of america!" added the boy, earnestly. ghip-ghisizzle seemed astonished. he was silent a moment, and then he said: "here in sky island we prize truthfulness very highly. our boolooroo is not very truthful, i admit, for he is trying to misrepresent the length of his reign, but our people as a rule speak only the truth." "so do we," asserted cap'n bill. "what button-bright said is the honest truth--every word of it." "but we have been led to believe that sky island is the greatest country in the universe--meaning, of course, our half of it, the blue country." "it may be for you, perhaps," the sailor stated, politely, "an' i don't imagine any island floatin' in the sky is any bigger. but the universe is a big place an' you can't be sure of what's in it till you've traveled, like we have." "perhaps you are right," mused the blueskin; but he still seemed to doubt them. "is the pink side of sky island bigger than the blue side?" asked button-bright. "no; it is supposed to be the same size," was the reply. "then why haven't you ever been there? seems to me you could walk across the whole island in an hour," said the boy. "the two parts are separated by an impassable barrier," answered ghip-ghisizzle. "between them lies the great fog bank." "a fog bank? why, that's no barrier!" exclaimed cap'n bill. "it is, indeed," returned the blueskin. "the fog bank is so thick and heavy that it blinds one, and if once you got into the bank you might wander forever and not find your way out again. also it is full of dampness that wets your clothes and your hair until you become miserable. it is furthermore said that those who enter the fog bank forfeit the six hundred years allowed them to live, and are liable to die at any time. here we do not die, you know; we merely pass away." "how's that?" asked the sailor. "isn't 'pass'n' away' jus' the same as dyin'?" "no, indeed. when our six hundred years are ended we march into the great blue grotto, through the arch of phinis, and are never seen again." "that's queer," said button-bright. "what would happen if you didn't march through the arch?" "i do not know, for no one has ever refused to do so. it is the law, and we all obey it." "it saves funeral expenses, anyhow," remarked cap'n bill. "where is this arch?" "just outside the gates of the city. there is a mountain in the center of the blue land, and the entrance to the great blue grotto is at the foot of the mountain. according to our figures the boolooroo ought to march into this grotto a hundred years from next thursday, but he is trying to steal a hundred years and so perhaps he won't enter the arch of phinis. therefore, if you will please be patient for about a hundred years, you will discover what happens to one who breaks the law." "thank'e," remarked cap'n bill. "i don't expect to be very curious, a hundred years from now." "nor i," added button-bright, laughing at the whimsical speech. "but i don't see how the boolooroo is able to fool you all. can't any of you remember two or three hundred years back, when he first began to rule?" "no," said ghip-ghisizzle; "that's a long time to remember, and we blueskins try to forget all we can--especially whatever is unpleasant. those who remember are usually the unhappy ones; only those able to forget find the most joy in life." during this conversation they had been walking along the streets of the blue city, where many of the blueskin inhabitants stopped to gaze wonderingly at the sailor and the boy, whose strange appearance surprised them. they were a nervous, restless people and their egg-shaped heads, set on the ends of long thin necks, seemed so grotesque to the strangers that they could scarcely forbear laughing at them. the bodies of these people were short and round and their legs exceptionally long, so when a blueskin walked he covered twice as much ground at one step as cap'n bill or button-bright did. the women seemed just as repellent as the men, and button-bright began to understand that the six snubnosed princesses were, after all, rather better looking than most of the females of the blue country and so had a certain right to be proud and haughty. there were no horses nor cows in this land, but there were plenty of blue goats, from which the people got their milk. children tended the goats--wee blueskin boys and girls whose appearance was so comical that button-bright laughed whenever he saw one of them. although the natives had never seen before this any human beings made as button-bright and cap'n bill were, they took a strong dislike to the strangers and several times threatened to attack them. perhaps if ghip-ghisizzle, who was their favorite, had not been present, they would have mobbed our friends with vicious ill-will and might have seriously injured them. but ghip-ghisizzle's friendly protection made them hold aloof. by and by they passed through a city gate and their guide showed them the outer walls, which protected the city from the country beyond. there were several of these gates, and from their recesses stone steps led to the top of the wall. they mounted a flight of these steps and from their elevation plainly saw the low mountain where the arch of phinis was located, and beyond that the thick, blue-gray fog bank, which constantly rolled like billows of the ocean and really seemed, from a distance, quite forbidding. "but it wouldn't take long to get there," decided button-bright, "and if you were close up it might not be worse than any other fog. is the pink country on the other side of it?" "so we are told in the book of records," replied ghip-ghisizzle. "none of us now living know anything about it, but the book of records calls it the 'sunset country,' and says that at evening the pink shades are drowned by terrible colors of orange and crimson and golden-yellow and red. wouldn't it be horrible to be obliged to look upon such a sight? it must give the poor people who live there dreadful headaches." "i'd like to see that book of records," mused cap'n bill, who didn't think the discription of the sunset country at all dreadful. "i'd like to see it myself," returned ghip-ghisizzle, with a sigh; "but no one can lay hands on it because the boolooroo keeps it safely locked up in his treasure chamber." "where's the key to the treasure chamber?" asked button-bright. "the boolooroo keeps it in his pocket, night and day," was the reply. "he is afraid to let anyone see the book, because it would prove he has already reigned three hundred years next thursday, and then he would have to resign the throne to me and leave the palace and live in a common house." "my magic umbrella is in that treasure chamber," said button-bright, "and i'm going to try to get it." "are you?" inquired ghip-ghisizzle, eagerly. "well, if you manage to enter the treasure chamber, be sure to bring me the book of records. if you can do that i will be the best and most grateful friend you ever had!" "i'll see," said the boy. "it ought not to be hard work to break into the treasure chamber. is it guarded?" "yes; the outside guard is jimfred jinksjones, the double patch of the fredjim whom you have met, and the inside guard is a ravenous creature known as the blue wolf, which has teeth a foot long and as sharp as needles." "oh," said button-bright. "but never mind the blue wolf; i must manage to get my umbrella, somehow or other." they now walked back to the palace, still objects of much curiosity to the natives, who sneered at them and mocked them but dared not interfere with their progress. at the palace they found that dinner was about to be served in the big dining hall of the servants and dependents and household officers of the royal boolooroo. ghip-ghisizzle was the majordomo and master of ceremonies, so he took his seat at the end of the long table and placed cap'n bill on one side of him and button-bright on the other, to the great annoyance of the other blueskins present, who favored the strangers with nothing pleasanter than envious scowls. the boolooroo and his queen and daughters--the six snubnosed princesses--dined in formal state in the banquet hall, where they were waited upon by favorite soldiers of the royal bodyguard. here in the servants' hall there was one vacant seat next to button-bright which was reserved for trot; but the little girl had not yet appeared and the sailorman and the boy were beginning to be uneasy about her. [illustration] [illustration] the tribulation of trot chapter 9. the apartments occupied by the six snubnosed princesses were so magnificent that when trot first entered them, led by her haughty captors, she thought they must be the most beautiful rooms in all the world. there was a long and broad reception room, with forty-seven windows in it, and opening out of it were six lovely bedchambers, each furnished in the greatest luxury. adjoining each sleeping room was a marble bath, and each princess had a separate boudoir and a dressing room. the furnishings were of the utmost splendor, blue-gold and blue gems being profusely used in the decorations, while the divans and chairs were of richly carved bluewood upholstered in blue satins and silks. the draperies were superbly embroidered and the rugs upon the marble floors were woven with beautiful scenes in every conceivable shade of blue. when they first reached the reception room princess azure cast herself upon a divan while her five sisters sat or reclined in easy chairs, with their heads thrown back and their blue chins scornfully elevated. trot, who was much annoyed at the treatment she had received, did not hesitate to seat herself, also, in a big easy chair. "slave!" cried princess cerulia, "fetch me a mirror." "slave!" cried princess turquoise, "a lock of my hair is loosened; bind it up." "slave!" cried princess cobalt, "unfasten my shoes; they're too tight." "slave!" cried princess sapphire, "bring hither my box of blue chocolates." "slave!" cried princess azure, "stand by my side and fan me." "slave!" cried princess indigo, "get out of that chair. how dare you sit in our presence!" "if you're saying all those things to me," replied trot, "you may as well save your breath. i'm no slave." and she cuddled down closer in the chair. "you _are_ a slave!" shouted the six, all together. "i'm not!" "our father, the revered and resplendent royal ruler of the blues, has made you our slave," asserted indigo, with a yawn. "but he can't," objected the little girl. "i'm some royal an' rapturous an' ridic'lous myself, an' i won't allow any cheap boolooroo to order me 'round." "are you of royal birth?" asked azure, seeming surprised. "royal! why, i'm an american, snubnoses, and if there's anything royaler than an american i'd like to know what it is." the princesses seemed uncertain what reply to make to this speech and began whispering together. finally indigo said to trot: "we do not think it matters what you were in your own country, for having left there you have forfeited your rank. by recklessly intruding into our domain you have become a slave, and being a slave you must obey us or suffer the consequences." "what cons'quences?" asked the girl. "dare to disobey us and you will quickly find out," snapped indigo, swaying her head from side to side on its long, swan-like neck, like the pendulum of a clock. "i don't want any trouble," said trot, gravely. "we came to sky island by mistake, and wanted to go right away again; but your father wouldn't let us. it isn't our fault we're still here, an' i'm free to say you're a very dis'gree'ble an' horrid lot of people, with no manners to speak of, or you'd treat us nicely." "no impertinence!" cried indigo, savagely. "why, it's the truth," replied trot. indigo made a rush and caught trot by both shoulders. the princess was twice the little girl's size and she shook her victim so violently that trot's teeth rattled together. then princess cobalt came up and slapped one side of the slave's face and princess turquoise ran forward and slapped the other side. cerulia gave trot a push one way and sapphire pushed her the other way, so the little girl was quite out of breath and very angry when finally her punishment ceased. she had not been much hurt, though, and she was wise enough to understand that these princesses were all cruel and vindictive, so that her safest plan was to pretend to obey them. "now, then," commanded princess indigo, "go and feed my little blue dog that crows like a rooster." "and feed my pretty blue cat that sings like a bird," said princess azure. "and feed my soft blue lamb that chatters like a monkey," said princess cobalt. "and feed my poetic blue parrot that barks like a dog," said princess sapphire. "and feed my fuzzy blue rabbit that roars like a lion," said princess turquoise. "and feed my lovely blue peacock that mews like a cat," said princess cerulia. "anything else?" asked trot, drawing a long breath. "not until you have properly fed our pets," replied azure, with a scowl. "what do they eat, then?" "meat!" "milk!" "clover!" "seeds!" "bread!" "carrots!" "all right," said trot; "where do you keep the menagerie?" "our pets are in our boudoirs," said indigo, harshly. "what a little fool you are!" "perhaps," said trot, pausing as she was about to leave the room, "when i grow up i'll be as big a fool as any of you." then she ran away to escape another shaking, and in the first boudoir she found the little blue dog curled up on a blue cushion in a corner. trot patted his head gently and this surprised the dog, who was accustomed to cuffs and kicks. so he licked trot's hand and wagged his funny little tail and then straightened up and crowed like a rooster. the girl was delighted with the queer doggie and she found some meat in a cupboard and fed him out of her hand, patting the tiny creature and stroking his soft blue hair. the doggie had never in his life known anyone so kind and gentle, so when trot went into the next boudoir the animal followed close at her heels, wagging his tail every minute. the blue cat was asleep on a window seat, but it woke up when trot tenderly took it in her lap and fed it milk from a blue-gold dish. it was a pretty cat and instantly knew the little girl was a friend--vastly different from its own bad-tempered mistress--so it sang beautifully, as a bird sings, and both the cat and the dog followed trot into the third boudoir. here was a tiny baby lamb with fleece as blue as a larkspur and as soft as silk. "oh, you darling!" cried trot, hugging the little lamb tight in her arms. at once the lamb began chattering, just as a monkey chatters, only in the most friendly and grateful way, and trot fed it a handful of fresh blue clover and smoothed and petted it until the lamb was eager to follow her wherever she might go. when she came to the fourth boudoir a handsome blue parrot sat on a blue perch and began barking as if it were nearly starved. then it cried out: "rub-a-dub, dub,- gimme some grub!" trot laughed and gave it some seeds, and while the parrot ate them she stroked gently his soft feathers. the bird seemed much astonished at the unusual caress, and turned upon the girl first one little eye and then the other, as if trying to discover why she was so kind. he had never experienced kind treatment in all his life. so it was no wonder that when the little girl entered the fifth boudoir she was followed by the parrot, the lamb, the cat and the dog, who all stood beside her and watched her feed the peacock, which she found strutting around and mewing like a cat for his dinner. said the parrot: "i spy a peacock's eye on every feather--i wonder why?" the peacock soon came to love trot as much as the other bird and all the beasts did, and it spread its tail and strutted after her into the next boudoir--the sixth one. as she entered this room trot gave a start of fear, for a terrible roar, like the roar of a lion, greeted her. but there was no lion there; a fuzzy blue rabbit was making all the noise. "for goodness sake, keep quiet," said trot. "here's a nice blue carrot for you. the color seems all wrong, but it may taste jus' as good as if it was red." evidently it did taste good, for the rabbit ate it greedily. when it was not roaring the creature was so soft and fluffy that trot played with it and fondled it a long time after it had finished eating, and the rabbit played with the cat and the dog and the lamb and did not seem a bit afraid of the parrot or the peacock. but, all of a sudden, in pounced princess indigo, with a yell of anger. "so, this is how you waste your time, is it?" exclaimed the princess, and grabbing trot's arm she jerked the girl to her feet and began pushing her from the room. all the pets began to follow her, and seeing this, indigo yelled at them to keep back. as they paid no attention to this command the princess seized a basin of water and dashed the fluid over the beasts and birds, after which she renewed her attempt to push trot from the room. the pets rebelled at such treatment, and believing they ought to protect trot, whom they knew to be their friend, they proceeded to defend her. the little blue dog dashed at indigo and bit her right ankle, while the blue cat scratched her left leg with its claws and the parrot flew upon her shoulder and pecked her ear. the lamb ran up and butted indigo so that she stumbled forward on her face, when the peacock proceeded to pound her head with his wings. indigo, screaming with fright, sprang to her feet again, but the rabbit ran between her legs and tripped her up, all the time roaring loudly like a lion, and the dog crowed triumphantly, as a rooster crows, while the cat warbled noisily and the lamb chattered and the parrot barked and the peacock screeched: "me-ow!" altogether, indigo was, as trot said, "scared stiff," and she howled for help until her sisters ran in and rescued her, pulling her through the bedchamber into the reception room. when she was alone trot sat down on the floor and laughed until the tears came to her eyes, and she hugged all the pets and kissed them every one and thanked them for protecting her. "that's all right; we like a fight," declared the parrot, in reply. the princesses were horrified to find indigo so scratched and bitten, and they were likewise amazed at the rebellion of their six pets, which they had never petted, indeed, but kept in their boudoirs so they could abuse them whenever they felt especially wicked or ill-natured. none of the snubnosed ones dared enter the room where the girl was, but they called through a crack in the door for trot to come out instantly. trot, pretending not to hear, paid no attention to these commands. finding themselves helpless and balked of their revenge, the six snubnosed princesses finally recovered from their excitement and settled down to a pleasant sisterly quarrel, as was their customary amusement. indigo wanted to have trot patched, and cerulia wanted her beaten with knotted cords, and cobalt wanted her locked up in a dark room, and sapphire wanted her fed on sand, and turquoise wanted her bound to a windmill, and so between these various desires they quarrelled and argued until dinner time arrived. trot was occupying indigo's room, so that princess was obliged to dress with azure, not daring to enter her own chamber, and the two sisters quarrelled so enthusiastically that they almost came to blows before they were ready for dinner. before the six snubnosed princesses went to the royal banquet hall, cobalt stuck her head through a crack of the door and said to trot: "if you want any dinner, you'll find it in the servants' hall. i advise you to eat, for after our dinner we will decide upon a fitting punishment for you, and then i'm sure you won't have much appetite." "thank you," replied the girl; "i'm right hungry, jus' now." she waited until the snubnosed sextette had pranced haughtily away and then she came out, followed by all the pets, and found her way to the servants' quarters. [illustration] [illustration] the king's treasure chamber chapter 10. all the blueskins assembled in the servants' hall were amazed to see the pets of the princesses trailing after the strange little girl, but trot took her place next to button-bright at the table, and the parrot perched upon her shoulder, while the peacock stood upon one side of her chair, and the lamb upon the other, and the cat and dog lay at her feet, and the blue rabbit climbed into her lap and cuddled down there. some of the blueskins insisted that the animals and birds must be put out of the room, but ghip-ghisizzle said they could remain, as they were the favored pets of the lovely snubnosed princesses. cap'n bill was delighted to see his dear little friend again, and so was button-bright, and now that they were reunited--for a time, at least--they paid little heed to the sour looks and taunting remarks of the ugly blueskins and ate heartily of the dinner, which was really very good. the meal was no sooner over than ghip-ghisizzle was summoned to the chamber of his majesty the boolooroo, but before he went away he took trot and cap'n bill and button-bright into a small room and advised them to stay there until he returned, so that the servants and soldiers would not molest them. "my people seem to dislike strangers," said the majordomo, thoughtfully, "and that surprises me because you are the first strangers they have ever seen. i think they imagine you will become favorites of the boolooroo and of the princesses, and that is why they are jealous and hate you." "they needn't worry 'bout that," replied trot; "the snubnoses hate me worse than the people do." "i can't imagine a bootblue becoming a royal favorite," grumbled button-bright. "or a necktie mixer," added cap'n bill. "you don't mix neckties; you're a nectar mixer," said ghip-ghisizzle, correcting the sailor. "i'll not be gone long, for i'm no favorite of the boolooroo, either, so please stay quietly in this room until my return." the majordomo found the boolooroo in a bad temper. he had finished his dinner, where his six daughters had bitterly denounced trot all through the meal and implored their father to invent some new and terrible punishment for her. also his wife, the queen, had made him angry by begging for gold to buy ribbons with. then, when he had retired to his own private room, he decided to send for the umbrella he had stolen from button-bright, and test its magic powers. but the umbrella, in his hands, proved just as common as any other umbrella might. he opened it and closed it, and turned it this way and that, commanding it to do all sorts of things; but of course the magic umbrella would obey no one but a member of the family that rightfully owned it. at last the boolooroo threw it down and stamped upon it and then kicked it into a corner, where it rolled underneath a cabinet. then he sent for ghip-ghisizzle. "do you know how to work that magic umbrella?" he asked the majordomo. "no, your majesty; i do not," was the reply. "well, find out. make the whiteskins tell you, so that i can use it for my own amusement." "i'll do my best, your majesty," said ghip-ghisizzle. "you'll do more than that, or i'll have you patched!" roared the angry boolooroo. "and don't waste any time, either, for as soon as we find out the secret of the umbrella i'm going to have the three strangers marched through the arch of phinis--and that will be the end of them." "you can't do that, your majesty," said the majordomo. "why can't i?" "they haven't lived six hundred years yet, and only those who have lived that length of time are allowed to march through the arch of phinis into the great blue grotto." the king looked at him with a sneer. "has anyone ever come out of that arch alive?" he asked. "no," said ghip-ghisizzle. "but no one has ever gone into the blue grotto until his allotted time was up." "well, i'm going to try the experiment," declared the boolooroo. "i shall march these three strangers through the arch, and if by any chance they come out alive i'll do a new sort of patching--i'll chop off their heads and mix 'em up, putting the wrong head on each of 'em. ha, ha! won't it be funny to see the old moonface's head on the little girl? ho, ho! i really hope they'll come out of the great blue grotto alive!" "i also hope they will," replied ghip-ghisizzle. "then i'll bet you four button-holes they don't. i've a suspicion that once they enter the great blue grotto that's the last of them." ghip-ghisizzle went away quite sad and unhappy. he did not approve the way the strangers were being treated and thought it was wicked and cruel to try to destroy them. during his absence the prisoners had been talking together very earnestly. "we must get away from here, somehow 'r other," said cap'n bill; "but o' course we can't stir a step without the magic umbrel." "no; i must surely manage to get my umbrella first," said button-bright. "do it quick, then," urged trot, "for i can't stand those snubnoses much longer." "i'll do it to-night," said the boy. "the sooner the better, my lad," remarked the sailor; "but seein' as the blue boolooroo has locked it up in his treasure chamber, it mayn't be easy to get hold of." "no; it won't be easy," button-bright admitted. "but it has to be done, cap'n bill, and there's no use waiting any longer. no one here likes us, and in a few days they may make an end of us." "oh, button-bright! there's a blue wolf in the treasure chamber!" exclaimed trot. "yes; i know." "an' a patched man on guard outside," cap'n bill reminded him. "i know," repeated button-bright. "and the key's in the king's own pocket," added trot, despairingly. the boy nodded. he didn't say how he would overcome all these difficulties, so the little girl feared they would never see the magic umbrella again. but their present position was a very serious one and even cap'n bill dared not advise button-bright to give up the desperate attempt. when ghip-ghisizzle returned he said: "you must be very careful not to anger the boolooroo, or he may do you a mischief. i think the little girl had better keep away from the princesses for to-night, unless they demand her presence. the boy must go for the king's shoes and blue them and polish them and then take them back to the royal bedchamber. cap'n bill won't have anything to do, for i've ordered tiggle to mix the nectar." "thank 'e, friend sizzle," said cap'n bill. "now follow me and i will take you to your rooms." he led them to the rear of the palace, where he gave them three small rooms on the ground floor, each having a bed in it. cap'n bill's room had a small door leading out into the street of the city, but ghip-ghisizzle advised him to keep this door locked, as the city people would be sure to hurt the strangers if they had the chance to attack them. "you're safer in the palace than anywhere else," said the majordomo, "for there is no way you can escape from the island, and here the servants and soldiers dare not injure you for fear of the boolooroo." he placed trot and her six pets--which followed her wherever she went--in one room, and cap'n bill in another, and took button-bright away with him to show the boy the way to the king's bedchamber. as they proceeded they passed many rooms with closed doors, and before one of these a patched blueskin was pacing up and down in a tired and sleepy way. it was jimfred jinksjones, the double of the fredjim jonesjinks they had talked with in the servants' hall, and he bowed low before the majordomo. "this is the king's new bootblue, a stranger who has lately arrived here," said ghip-ghisizzle, introducing the boy to the patched man. "i'm sorry for him," muttered jimfred. "he's a queer looking chap, with his pale yellow skin, and i imagine our cruel boolooroo is likely to patch him before long, as he did me--i mean us." "no, he won't," said button-bright, positively. "the boolooroo's afraid of me." "oh, that's different," said jimfred. "you're the first person i ever knew that could scare our boolooroo." they passed on, and ghip-ghisizzle whispered: "that is the royal treasure chamber." button-bright nodded. he had marked the place well, so he couldn't miss it when he wanted to find it again. when they came to the king's apartments there was another guard before the door, this time a long-necked soldier with a terrible scowl. "this slave is the royal bootblue," said ghip-ghisizzle to the guard. "you will allow him to pass into his majesty's chamber to get the royal shoes and to return them when they are blued." "all right," answered the guard. "our boolooroo is in an ugly mood to-night. it will go hard with this little short-necked creature if he doesn't polish the shoes properly." then ghip-ghisizzle left button-bright and went away, and the boy passed through several rooms to the royal bedchamber, where his majesty sat undressing. "hi, there! what are you doing here?" he roared, as he saw button-bright. "i've come for the shoes," said the boy. the king threw them at his head, aiming carefully, but button-bright dodged the missiles and one smashed a mirror while the other shattered a vase on a small table. his majesty looked around for something else to throw, but the boy seized the shoes and ran away, returning to his own room. while he polished the shoes he told his plans to cap'n bill and trot, and asked them to be ready to fly with him as soon as he returned with the magic umbrella. all they need to do was to step out into the street, through the door of cap'n bill's room, and open the umbrella. fortunately, the seats and the lunch-basket were still attached to the handle--or so they thought--and there would be nothing to prevent their quickly starting on the journey home. they waited a long time, however, to give the boolooroo time to get to sleep, so it was after midnight when button-bright finally took the shoes in his hand and started for the royal bedchamber. he passed the guard of the royal treasury and fredjim nodded good-naturedly to the boy. but the sleepy guard before the king's apartments was cross and surly. "what are you doing here at this hour?" he demanded. "i'm returning his majesty's shoes," said button-bright. "go back and wait till morning," commanded the guard. "if you prevent me from obeying the boolooroo's orders," returned the boy, quietly, "he will probably have you patched." this threat frightened the long-necked guard, who did not know what orders the boolooroo had given his royal bootblue. "go in, then," said he; "but if you make a noise and waken his majesty, the chances are you'll get yourself patched." "i'll be quiet," promised the boy. indeed, button-bright had no desire to waken the boolooroo, whom he found snoring lustily with the curtains of his high-posted bed drawn tightly around him. the boy had taken off his own shoes after he passed the guard and now he tiptoed carefully into the room, set down the royal shoes very gently and then crept to the chair where his majesty's clothes were piled. scarcely daring to breathe, for fear of awakening the terrible monarch, the boy searched in the royal pockets until he found a blue-gold key attached to a blue-gold chain. at once he decided this must be the key to the treasure chamber, but in order to make sure he searched in every other pocket--without finding another key. then button-bright crept softly out of the room again, and in one of the outer rooms he sat down near a big cabinet and put on his shoes. poor button-bright did not know that lying disregarded beneath that very cabinet at his side was the precious umbrella he was seeking, or that he was undertaking a desperate adventure all for nothing. he passed the long-necked guard again, finding the man half asleep, and then made his way to the treasure chamber. facing jimfred he said to the patched man, in a serious tone: "his majesty commands you to go at once to the corridor leading to the apartments of the six snubnosed princesses and to guard the entrance until morning. you are to permit no one to enter or to leave the apartments." "but--good gracious!" exclaimed the surprised jimfred; "who will guard the treasure chamber?" "i am to take your place," said button-bright. "oh, very well," replied jimfred; "this is a queer freak for our boolooroo to indulge in, but he is always doing something absurd. you're not much of a guard, seems to me, but if anyone tries to rob the treasure chamber you must ring this big gong, which will alarm the whole palace and bring the soldiers to your assistance. do you understand?" "yes," said button-bright. then fredjim stalked away to the other side of the palace to guard the princesses, and button-bright was left alone with the key to the treasure chamber in his hand. but he had not forgotten that the ferocious blue wolf was guarding the interior of the chamber, so he searched in some of the rooms until he found a sofa-pillow, which he put under his arm and then returned to the corridor. he placed the key in the lock and the bolt turned with a sharp click. button-bright did not hesitate. he was afraid, to be sure, and his heart was beating fast with the excitement of the moment, but he knew he must regain the magic umbrella if he would save his comrades and himself from destruction, for without it they could never return to the earth. so he summoned up his best courage, opened the door, stepped quickly inside--and closed the door after him. [illustration] [illustration] button-bright encounters the blue wolf chapter 11. a low, fierce growl greeted him. the treasure chamber was pretty dark, although the moonlight came in through some of the windows, but the boy had brought with him the low brass lamp that lighted the corrider and this he set upon a table beside the door before he took time to look around him. the treasure chamber was heaped and crowded with all the riches the boolooroo had accumulated during his reign of two or three hundred years. piles of gold and jewels were on all sides and precious ornaments and splendid cloths, rare pieces of carved furniture, vases, bric-a-brac and the like, were strewn about the room in astonishing profusion. just at the boy's feet crouched a monstrous animal of most fearful aspect. he knew at a glance it was the terrible blue wolf and the sight of the beast sent a shiver through him. the blue wolf's head was fully as big as that of a lion and its wide jaws were armed with rows of long, pointed teeth. its shoulders and front legs were huge and powerful, but the rest of the wolf's body dwindled away until at the tail it was no bigger than a dog. the jaws were therefore the dangerous part of the creature, and its small blue eyes flashed wickedly at the intruder. just as the boy made his first step forward the blue wolf sprang upon him with its enormous jaws stretched wide open. button-bright jammed the sofa-pillow into the brute's mouth and crowded it in as hard as he could. the terrible teeth came together and buried themselves in the pillow, and then mr. wolf found he could not pull them out again--because his mouth was stuffed full. he could not even growl or yelp, but rolled upon the floor trying in vain to release himself from the conquering pillow. button-bright paid no further attention to the helpless animal but caught up the blue-brass lamp and began a search for his umbrella. of course he could not find it, as it was not there. he came across a small book, bound in light blue leather, which lay upon an exquisitely carved center-table. it was named, in dark blue letters stamped on the leather, "the royal record book," and remembering that ghip-ghisizzle longed to possess this book button-bright hastily concealed it inside his blouse. then he renewed his search for the umbrella, but it was quite in vain. he hunted in every crack and corner, tumbling the treasures here and there in the quest, but at last he became positive that the magic umbrella had been removed from the room. the boy was bitterly disappointed and did not know what to do next. but he noticed that the blue wolf had finally seized an edge of the sofa-pillow in its sharp claws and was struggling to pull the thing out of his mouth; so, there being no object in his remaining longer in the room, where he might have to fight the wolf again, button-bright went out and locked the door behind him. while he stood in the corridor wondering what to do next a sudden shouting reached his ears. it was the voice of the boolooroo, crying: "my key--my key! who has stolen my golden key?" and then there followed shouts of soldiers and guards and servants and the rapid pattering of feet was heard throughout the palace. button-bright took to his heels and ran along the passages until he came to cap'n bill's room, where the sailorman and trot were anxiously awaiting him. "quick!" cried the boy; "we must escape from here at once or we will be caught and patched." "where's the umbrel?" asked cap'n bill. "i don't know. i can't find it. but all the palace is aroused and the boolooroo is furious. come, let's get away at once!" "where'll we go?" inquired trot. "we must make for the open country and hide in the fog bank, or in the arch of phinis," replied the boy. they did not stop to argue any longer, but all three stepped out of the little door into the street, where they first clasped hands, so they would not get separated in the dark, and then ran as swiftly as they could down the street, which was deserted at this hour by the citizens. they could not go very fast because the sailorman's wooden leg was awkward to run with and held them back, but cap'n bill hobbled quicker than he had ever hobbled before in all his life, and they really made pretty good progress. they met no one on the streets and continued their flight until at last they came to the city wall, which had a blue-iron gate in it. here was a blueskin guard, who had been peacefully slumbering when aroused by the footsteps of the fugitives. "halt!" cried the guard, fiercely. cap'n bill halted long enough to grab the man around his long neck with one hand and around his long leg with the other hand. then he raised the blueskin in the air and threw him far over the wall. a moment later they had unfastened the gate and fled into the open country, where they headed toward the low mountain whose outlines were plainly visible in the moonlight. the guard was now howling and crying for help. in the city were answering shouts. a hue and cry came from every direction, reaching as far as the palace. lights began to twinkle everywhere in the streets and the blue city hummed like a beehive filled with angry bees. "it won't do for us to get caught now," panted cap'n bill, as they ran along. "i'm more afeared o' them blue citizens ner i am o' the blue boolooroo. they'd tear us to pieces, if they could." sky island was not a very big place, especially the blue part of it, and our friends were now very close to the low mountain. presently they paused before a grim archway of blue marble, above which was carved the one word: "phinis." the interior seemed dark and terrible as they stopped to regard it as a possible place of refuge. "don't like that place, cap'n," whispered trot. "no more do i, mate," he answered. "i think i'd rather take a chance on the fog bank," said button-bright. just then they were all startled by a swift flapping of wings, and a voice cried in shrill tones: "where are you, trot? as like as not i've been forgot!" cap'n bill jumped this way and button-bright that, and then there alighted on trot's shoulder the blue parrot that had been the pet of the princess cerulia. said the bird: "gee! i've flown here all alone. it's pretty far, but here we are!" and then he barked like a dog and chuckled with glee at having found his little friend. in escaping from the palace trot had been obliged to leave all the pets behind her, but it seemed that the parrot had found some way to get free and follow her. they were all astonished to hear the bird talk--and in poetry, too--but cap'n bill told trot that some parrots he had known had possessed a pretty fair gift of language, and he added that this blue one seemed an unusually bright bird. "as fer po'try," said he, "that's as how you look at po'try. rhymes come from your head, but real po'try from your heart, an' whether the blue parrot has a heart or not he's sure got a head." having decided not to venture into the arch of phinis they again started on, this time across the country straight toward the fog bank, which hung like a blue-gray cloud directly across the center of the island. they knew they were being followed by bands of the blueskins, for they could hear the shouts of their pursuers growing louder and louder every minute, since their long legs covered the ground more quickly than our friends could possibly go. had the journey been much farther the fugitives would have been overtaken, but when the leaders of the pursuing blueskins were only a few yards behind them they reached the edge of the fog bank and without hesitation plunged into its thick mist, which instantly hid them from view. the blueskins fell back, horrified at the mad act of the strangers. to them the fog bank was the most dreadful thing in existence and no blueskin had ever ventured within it, even for a moment. "that's the end of those short-necked yellowskins," said one, shaking his head. "we may as well go back and report the matter to the boolooroo." [illustration] [illustration] through the fog bank chapter 12. it was rather moist in the fog bank. "seems like a reg'lar drizzle," said trot. "i'll be soaked through in a minute." she had been given a costume of blue silk, in exchange for her own dress, and the silk was so thin that the moisture easily wetted it. "never mind," said cap'n bill. "when it's a case of life 'n' death, clo's don't count for much. i'm sort o' drippy myself." cried the parrot, fluttering his feathers to try to keep them from sticking together: "floods and gushes fill our path- this is not my day for a bath! shut it off, or fear my wrath." "we can't," laughed trot. "we'll jus' have to stick it out till we get to the other side." "had we better go to the other side?" asked button-bright, anxiously. "why not?" returned cap'n bill. "the other side's the only safe side for us." "we don't know that, sir," said the boy. "ghip-ghisizzle said it was a terrible country." "i don't believe it," retorted the sailor, stoutly. "sizzle's never been there, an' he knows nothing about it. 'the sunset country' sounds sort o' good to me." "but how'll we ever manage to get there?" inquired trot. "aren't we already lost in this fog?" "not yet," said cap'n bill. "i've kep' my face turned straight ahead, ever since we climbed inter this bank o' wetness. if we don't get twisted any, we'll go straight through to the other side." it was no darker in the fog bank than it had been in the blue country. they could see dimly the mass of fog, which seemed to cling to them, and when they looked down they discovered that they were walking upon white pebbles that were slightly tinged with the blue color of the sky. gradually this blue became fainter, until, as they progressed, everything became a dull gray. "i wonder how far it is to the other side," remarked trot, wearily. "we can't say till we get there, mate," answered the sailor in a cheerful voice. cap'n bill had a way of growing more and more cheerful when danger threatened. "never mind," said the girl; "i'm as wet as a dish rag now, and i'll never get any wetter." "wet, wet, wet! it's awful wet, you bet!" moaned the parrot on her shoulder. "i'm a fish-pond, i'm a well; i'm a clam without a shell!" "can't you dry up?" asked cap'n bill. "not this evening, thank you, sir; to talk and grumble i prefer," replied the parrot, dolefully. they walked along more slowly now, still keeping hold of hands; for although they were anxious to get through the fog bank they were tired with the long run across the country and with their day's adventures. they had had no sleep and it was a long time past midnight. "look out!" cried the parrot, sharply; and they all halted to find a monstrous frog obstructing their path. cap'n bill thought it was as big as a whale, and as it squatted on the gray pebbles its eyes were on a level with those of the old sailor. "ker-chug, ker-choo!" grunted the frog; "what in the sky is _this_ crowd?" "w--we're--strangers," stammered trot; "an' we're tryin' to 'scape from the blueskins an' get into the pink country." "i don't blame you," said the frog, in a friendly tone. "i hate those blueskins. the pinkies, however, are very decent neighbors." "oh, i'm glad to hear that!" cried button-bright. "can you tell us, mister--mistress--good mr. frog--eh--eh--your royal highness--if we're on the right road to the pink country?" the frog seemed to laugh, for he gurgled in his throat in a very funny way. "i'm no royal highness," he said. "i'm just a common frog; and a little wee tiny frog, too. but i hope to grow, in time. this fog bank is the paradise of frogs and our king is about ten times as big as i am." "then he's a big un, an' no mistake," admitted cap'n bill. "i'm glad you like your country, but it's a mite too damp for us, an' we'd be glad to get out of it." "follow me," said the frog. "i'll lead you to the border. it's only about six jumps." he turned around, made a mighty leap and disappeared in the gray mist. our friends looked at one another in bewilderment. "don't see how we can foller that lead," remarked cap'n bill; "but we may as well start in the same direction." "brooks and creeks, how it leaks!" muttered the parrot; "how can we jog to a frog in a fog?" the big frog seemed to understand their difficulty, for he kept making noises in his throat to guide them to where he had leaped. when at last they came up to him he made a second jump--out of sight, as before--and when they attempted to follow they found a huge lizard lying across the path. cap'n bill thought it must be a giant alligator, at first, it was so big; but he looked at them sleepily and did not seem at all dangerous. "o, liz--you puffy liz- get out of our way and mind your biz," cried the parrot. "creep-a-mousie, crawl-a-mousie, please move on! we can't move a step till you are gone." "don't disturb me," said the lizard; "i'm dreaming about parsnips. did you ever taste a parsnip?" "we're in a hurry, if it's the same to you, sir," said cap'n bill, politely. [illustration] "then climb over me--or go around--i don't care which," murmured the lizard. "when they're little, they're juicy; when they're big, there's more of 'em; but either way there's nothing so delicious as a parsnip. there are none here in the fog bank, so the best i can do is dream of them. oh, parsnips--par-snips--p-a-r-snips!" he closed his eyes sleepily and resumed his dreams. walking around the lizard they resumed their journey and soon came to the frog, being guided by its grunts and croaks. then off it went again, its tremendous leap carrying it far into the fog. suddenly cap'n bill tripped and would have fallen flat had not trot and button-bright held him up. then he saw that he had stumbled over the claw of a gigantic land-crab, which lay sprawled out upon the pebbly bottom. "oh; beg parding, i'm sure!" exclaimed cap'n bill backing away. "don't mention it," replied the crab, in a tired tone. "you did not disturb me, so there is no harm done." "we didn't know you were here," explained trot. "probably not," said the crab. "it's no place for me, anyhow, for i belong in the constellations, you know, with taurus and gemini and the other fellows. but i had the misfortune to tumble out of the zodiac some time ago. my name is cancer--but i'm not a disease. those who examine the heavens in these days, alas! can find no cancer there." "yes, we can, sir, mister cancer!" said the parrot, with a chuckle. "once," remarked cap'n bill, "i sawr a picter of you in an almanac." "ah; the almanacs always did us full justice," the crab replied, "but i'm told they're not fashionable now." "if you don't mind, we'd like to pass on," said button-bright. "no; i don't mind; but be careful not to step on my legs. they're rheumatic, it's so moist here." they climbed over some of the huge legs and walked around others. soon they had left the creature far behind. "aren't you rather slow?" asked the frog, when once more they came up to him. "it isn't that," said trot. "you are rather swift, i guess." the frog chuckled and leaped again. they noticed that the fog had caught a soft rose tint, and was lighter and less dense than before, for which reason the sailor remarked that they must be getting near to the pink country. on this jump they saw nothing but a monstrous turtle, which lay asleep with its head and legs drawn into its shell. it was not in their way, so they hurried on and rejoined the frog, which said to them: "i'm sorry, but i'm due at the king's court in a few minutes and i can't wait for your short, weak legs to make the journey to the pink country. but if you will climb upon my back i think i can carry you to the border in one more leap." "i'm tired," said trot, "an' this awful fog's beginnin' to choke me. let's ride on the frog, cap'n." "right you are, mate," he replied, and although he shook a bit with fear, the old man at once began to climb to the frog's back. trot seated herself on one side of him and button-bright on the other, and the sailor put his arms around them both to hold them tight together. "are you ready?" asked the frog. "ding-dong!" cried the parrot; "all aboard! let 'er go! jump the best jump that you know." "don't--don't! jump sort o' easy, please," begged cap'n bill. but the frog was unable to obey his request. its powerful hind legs straightened like steel springs and shot the big body, with its passengers, through the fog like an arrow launched from a bow. they gasped for breath and tried to hang on, and then suddenly the frog landed just at the edge of the fog bank, stopping so abruptly that his three riders left his back and shot far ahead of him. they felt the fog melt away and found themselves bathed in glorious rays of sunshine; but they had no time to consider this change because they were still shooting through the air, and presently--before they could think of anything at all--all three were rolling heels over head on the soft grass of a meadow. [illustration] [illustration] the pink country chapter 13. when the travelers could collect their senses and sit up they stared about them in bewilderment, for the transition from the sticky, damp fog to this brilliant scene was so abrupt as to daze them at first. it was a pink country, indeed. the grass was a soft pink, the trees were pink, all the fences and buildings which they saw in the near distance were pink--even the gravel in the pretty paths was pink. many shades of color were there, of course, grading from a faint blush rose to deep pink verging on red, but no other color was visible. in the sky hung a pink glow, with rosy clouds floating here and there, and the sun was not silvery white, as we see it from the earth, but a distinct pink. the sun was high in the sky, just now, which proved the adventurers had been a long time in passing through the fog bank. but all of them were wonderfully relieved to reach this beautiful country in safety, for aside from the danger that threatened them in the blue country, the other side of the island was very depressing. here the scene that confronted them was pretty and homelike, except for the prevailing color and the fact that all the buildings were round, without a single corner or angle. half a mile distant was a large city, its pink tintings glistening bravely in the pink sunshine, while hundreds of pink banners floated from its numerous domes. the country between the fog bank and the city was like a vast garden, very carefully kept and as neat as wax. the parrot was fluttering its wings and pruning its feathers to remove the wet of the fog. trot and button-bright and cap'n bill were all soaked to the skin and chilled through, but as they sat upon the pink grass they felt the rays of the sun sending them warmth and rapidly drying their clothes; so, being tired out, they laid themselves comfortably down and first one and then another fell cosily asleep. it was the parrot that aroused them. "look out--look out- there's folks about!" it screamed; "the apple-dumplings, fat and pink, will be here quicker than a wink!" trot started up in alarm and rubbed her eyes; cap'n bill rolled over and blinked, hardly remembering where he was; button-bright was on his feet in an instant. advancing toward them were four of the natives of the pink country. two were men and two were women, and their appearance was in sharp contrast to that of the blueskins. for the pinkies were round and chubby--almost like "apple-dumplings," as the parrot had called them--and they were not very tall, the highest of the men being no taller than trot or button-bright. they all had short necks and legs, pink hair and eyes, rosy cheeks and pink complexions, and their faces were good-natured and jolly in expression. the men wore picturesque pink clothing and round hats with pink feathers in them, but the apparel of the women was still more gorgeous and striking. their dresses consisted of layer after layer of gauzy tucks and ruffles and laces, caught here and there with bows of dainty ribbon. the skirts--which of course were of many shades of pink--were so fluffy and light that they stuck out from the fat bodies of the pinkie women like the skirts of ballet-dancers, displaying their chubby pink ankles and pink kid shoes. they wore rings and necklaces and bracelets and brooches of rose-gold set with pink gems, and all four of the new arrivals, both men and women, carried sharp-pointed sticks, made of rosewood, for weapons. they halted a little way from our adventurers and one of the women muttered in a horrified voice: "blueskins!" "guess again! the more you guess i rather think you'll know the less," retorted the parrot; and then he added grumblingly in trot's ear: "blue feathers don't make bluebirds." "really," said the little girl, standing up and bowing respectfully to the pinkies, "we are not blueskins, although we are wearing the blue uniforms of the boolooroo and have just escaped from the blue country. if you will look closely you will see that our skins are white." "there is some truth in what she says," remarked one of the men, thoughtfully. "their skins are not blue, but neither are they white. to be exact, i should call the skin of the girl and that of the boy a muddy pink, rather faded, while the skin of the gigantic monster with them is an unpleasant brown." cap'n bill looked cross for a minute, for he did not like to be called a "gigantic monster," although he realized he was much larger than the pink people. "what country did you come from?" asked the woman who had first spoken. "from the earth," replied button-bright. "the earth! the earth!" they repeated. "that is a country we have never heard of. where is it located?" "why, down below, somewhere," said the boy, who did not know in which direction the earth lay. "it isn't just one country, but a good many countries." "we have three countries in sky island," returned the woman. "they are the blue country, the fog country and the pink country; but of course this end of the island is the most important." "how came you in the blue country, from whence you say you escaped?" asked the man. "we flew there by means of a magic umbrella," explained button-bright; "but the wicked boolooroo stole it from us." "stole it! how dreadful," they all cried in a chorus. "and they made us slaves," said trot. "an' wanted fer to patch us," added cap'n bill, indignantly. "so we ran away and passed through the fog bank and came here," said button-bright. the pinkies turned away and conversed together in low tones. then one of the women came forward and addressed the strangers. "your story is the strangest we have ever heard," said she; "and your presence here is still more strange and astonishing. so we have decided to take you to tourmaline and let her decide what shall be your fate." "who is tourmaline?" inquired trot, doubtfully, for she didn't like the idea of being "taken" to anyone. "the queen of the pinkies. she is the sole ruler of our country, so the word of tourmaline is the law of the land." "seems to me we've had 'bout enough of kings an' queens," remarked cap'n bill. "can't we shy your tut--tor--mar-line--or whatever you call her--in some way, an' deal with you direct?" "no. until we prove your truth and honor we must regard you as enemies of our race. if you had a magic umbrella you may be magicians and sorcerers, come here to deceive us and perhaps betray us to our natural enemies, the blueskins." "mud and bricks--fiddlesticks! we don't play such nasty tricks," yelled the parrot, angrily, and this caused the pinkies to shrink back in alarm, for they had never seen a parrot before. "surely this is magic!" declared one of the men. "no bird can talk unless inspired by witchcraft." "oh, yes; parrots can," said trot. but this incident had determined the pinkies to consider our friends prisoners and to take them immediately before their queen. "must we fight you?" asked the woman, "or will you come with us peaceably?" "we'll go peaceable," answered cap'n bill. "you're a-makin' a sad mistake, for we're as harmless as doves; but seein' as you're suspicious we'd better have it out with your queen first as last." their clothing was quite dry by this time, although much wrinkled and discolored by the penetrating fog, so at once they prepared to follow the pinkies. the two men walked on either side of them, holding the pointed sticks ready to jab them if they attempted to escape, and the two women followed in the rear, also armed with sharp sticks. so the procession moved along the pretty roadways to the city, which they soon reached. there was a strong high wall of pink marble around it and they passed through a gate made of pink metal bars and found themselves in a most delightful and picturesque town. the houses were big and substantial, all round in shape, with domed roofs and circular windows and doorways. in all the place there was but one street--a circular one that started at the gate and wound like a corkscrew toward the center of the city. it was paved with pink marble and between the street and the houses that lined both sides of it were gardens filled with pink flowers and pink grass lawns, which were shaded by pink trees and shrubbery. as the queen lived in the very center of the city the captives were obliged to parade the entire length of this street, and that gave all the pink citizens a chance to have a good look at the strangers. the pinkies were every one short and fat and gorgeously dressed in pink attire, and their faces indicated that they were contented and happy. they were much surprised at cap'n bill's great size and wooden leg--two very unusual things in their experience--and the old sailor frightened more than one pinky boy and girl and sent them scampering into the houses, where they viewed the passing procession from behind the window shutters, in comparative safety. as for the grown people, many of them got out their sharp-pointed sticks to use as weapons in case the strangers attacked them or broke away from their guards. a few, more bold than the others, followed on at the tail of the procession, and so presently they all reached an open, circular place in the exact center of the pink city. [illustration] [illustration] tourmaline the poverty queen chapter 14. the open space which they entered was paved with pink marble and around it were two rows of large pink statues, at least life-size and beautifully sculptured. all were set upon nicely carved pink pedestals. they were, of course, statues of pinky men and women and all had bands of pink metal around their foreheads, in the center of each band being a glistening pink jewel. about the middle of the open space inside the statues, which appeared to be the public meeting place of the pinkies, was a small, low house, domed like all the other houses but built of a coarse pink stone instead of the fine marble to be seen everywhere else. it had no ornamentation, being exceedingly plain in appearance. no banners floated from it; no flowers grew near it. "here," said one of their guides, as the procession halted before the little stone building, "is the palace of tourmaline, who is our queen." "what! that little cabin?" exclaimed trot. "of course. did you suppose a palace would be like one of our handsome residences?" asked the woman, evidently surprised. "i thought it would be better," said the girl. "all the palaces i've seen were splendid." "a splendid palace!" exclaimed one of the pinkies, and then they looked at one another in amazement and seemed to doubt that their ears had heard aright. "these intruders are very peculiar people," remarked a man in the crowd. "they seem very ignorant, poor things!" said another, in reply. "come!" commanded the woman who led the party; "you three must follow me to the presence of tourmaline. the people must wait outside, for there is no room for them in the palace." so they followed her through the low archway, and in a room beyond, very simply furnished, sat a young girl engaged in darning a pair of pink stockings. she was a beautiful girl of about seventeen years of age, not fat like all the rest of the pinkies, but slender and well formed according to our own ideas of beauty. her complexion was not a decided pink but a soft rosy tint not much deeper than that of trot's skin. instead of a silken gown, furbelowed like all the others they had seen women wear in this land, tourmaline was dressed in a severely plain robe of coarse pink cloth much resembling bedticking. across her brow, however, was a band of rose gold, in the center of which was set a luminous pink jewel which gleamed more brilliantly than a diamond. it was her badge of office, and seemed very incongruous when compared with her poor raiment and simple surroundings. as they entered, the girl sighed and laid down her work. her expression was patient and resigned as she faced her audience. "what is it, coralie?" she asked the woman. "here are three strange people, tourmaline," was the reply, "who say they have entered our country through the fog bank. they tell a queer story of an escape from the blueskins, so i decided to bring them to you, that you may determine their fate." the queen gazed upon our friends with evident interest. she smiled--a little sadly--at trot, seemed to approve button-bright's open, frank face and was quite surprised because cap'n bill was so much bigger than her own people. "are you a giant?" she asked the sailor, in a soft, sweet voice. "no, your majesty," he replied; "i'm only ----" "majesty!" she exclaimed, flushing a deeper pink. "are you addressing that word to me?" "o' course, ma'am," answered cap'n bill; "i'm told that's the proper way to speak to a queen." "perhaps you are trying to ridicule me," she continued, regarding the sailor's face closely. "there is nothing majestic about me, as you know very well. coralie, do you consider 'majesty' a proper word to use when addressing a queen?" she added, appealing to the pinky woman. "by no means," was the prompt reply. "what shall i call her, then?" inquired cap'n bill. "just tourmaline. that is her name, and it is sufficient," said the woman. "the ruler of a country ought to be treated with great respec'," declared trot, a little indignantly, for she thought the pretty little queen was not being properly deferred to. "why?" asked tourmaline, curiously. "because the ruler is the mos' 'risticratic person in any land," explained the little girl. "even in america ever'body bows low to our president, an' the blueskins are so 'fraid o' their boolooroo that they tremble whenever they go near him." "but surely that is all wrong," said tourmaline gravely. "the ruler is appointed to protect and serve the people, and here in the pink country i have the full power to carry out the laws. i even decree death, when such a punishment is merited. therefore i am a mere agent to direct the laws, which are the will of the people, and am only a public servant, obliged constantly to guard the welfare of my subjects." "in that case," said button-bright, "you're entitled to the best there is, to pay for your trouble. a powerful ruler ought to be rich and to live in a splendid palace. your folks ought to treat you with great respect, as trot says." "oh, no," responded tourmaline quickly; "that would indeed be very wrong. too much should never be given to anyone. if, with my great power, conferred upon me by the people, i also possessed great wealth, i might be tempted to be cruel and overbearing. in that case my subjects would justly grow envious of my superior station. if i lived as luxuriously as my people do, and had servants and costly gowns, the good pinkies would say that their queen had more than they themselves--and it would be true. no; our way is best. the ruler, be it king or queen, has absolute power to rule, but no riches--no high station--no false adulation. the people have the wealth and honor, for it is their due. the queen has nothing but the power to execute the laws, to adjust grievances and to compel order." "what pays you, then, for all your bother?" asked trot. "i have one great privilege. after my death a pink marble statue of me will be set up in the grand court, with the statues of the other kings and queens who have ruled this land, and all the pinkies in ages to come will then honor me as having been a just and upright queen. that is my reward." "i'm sorry for you, ma'am," said cap'n bill. "your pay for bein' a queen is sort o' like a life-insurance. it don't come due till after you're dead, an' then you can't get much fun out o' it." "i did not choose to be the queen," answered tourmaline, simply. "a misfortune of birth placed me here and i cannot escape my fate. it is much more desirable to be a private citizen, happy and care free. but we have talked long enough of myself. tell me who you are, and why you have come here." between them they told the story of how the magic umbrella had taken them to sky island, which they did not know, when they started, was anywhere in existence. button-bright told this, and then trot related their adventures among the blueskins and how the boolooroo had stolen the umbrella and prevented them from going home again. the parrot on her shoulder kept interrupting her continually, for the mention of the boolooroo seemed to make the bird frantic with rage. "naughty, naugh-ty boo-loo-roo! he's the worst i ev-er knew!" the parrot repeated over and over again. cap'n bill finished the story by telling of their escape through the fog bank. "we didn't know what your pink country was like, o' course," he said, "but we knew it couldn't be worse than the blue country, an' we didn't take any stock in their stories that the fog bank would be the death o' us." "pretty wet! pretty wet was the journey, you can bet!" declared the parrot, in conclusion. "yes, it was wet an' sticky, all right," agreed the sailor; "but the big frog helped us an' we got through all right." "but what can you do here?" asked tourmaline. "you are not like my people, the pinkies, and there is no place for you in our country." "that's true enough," said cap'n bill; "but we had to go somewhere, an' this was the likeliest place we could think of. your sky island ain't very big, so when we couldn't stay in the blue country, where ever'body hated us, or in the fog bank, which ain't healthy an' is too wet for humans to live in for long, we nat'rally were forced to enter the pink country, where we expected to find nice people." "we _are_ nice," said tourmaline; "but it is our country--not yours--and we have no place here for strangers. in all our history you are the first people from outside our borders who have ever stepped a foot in our land. we do not hate you, as you say the blueskins do, nor are we savage or cruel; but we do not want you here and i am really puzzled what to do with you." "isn't there a law to cover this case?" asked coralie. "i do not remember any such law," replied the queen; "but i will search in the great book and see if i can find anything that refers to strange people entering our land." "if not," said the woman, "you must make a law. it is your duty." "i know," answered tourmaline; "but i hope such a responsibility will not fall upon my shoulders. these poor strangers are in a very uncomfortable position and i wish i could help them to get back to their own country." "thank you," said trot. "we wish so, too. haven't you any fairies here?" "oh, there are fairies, of course, as there are everywhere," answered tourmaline; "but none that we can call to our assistance, or command to do our bidding." "how about witches?" asked button-bright. "i know of one witch," said tourmaline, thoughtfully, "but she is not very obliging. she says it makes her head ache to perform witchcraft and so she seldom indulges in it. but, if there is no other way, i may be obliged to call upon rosalie for help. i'll look in the great book first. meantime you will go home with coralie, who will feed you and give you entertainment. to-morrow morning come to me again and then i will decree your fate." the little queen then picked up her stocking and began to darn the holes in it, and coralie, without any formal parting, led the strangers from the miserable palace. [illustration] [illustration] the sunrise tribe and the sunset tribe chapter 15. although trot and her comrades were still prisoners they were far more comfortable than they had been in the blue country. coralie took them to her own home, where she lived in great luxury, being one of the prominent women of the pinkies. in this country the women seemed fully as important as the men, and instead of being coddled and petted they performed their share of the work, both in public and private affairs, and were expected to fight in the wars exactly as the men did. our friends learned considerable about the pinkies during that afternoon and evening, for their hostess proved kind and agreeable and frankly answered all their questions. although this half of sky island was no larger than the blue country, being no more than two miles square, it had several hundred inhabitants. these were divided into two tribes, which were called the sunrise tribe and the sunset tribe. the sunrise tribe lived in the eastern half of the pink country and the sunset tribe in the west half, and there was great rivalry between them and, sometimes, wars. it was all a question of social importance. the sunrise tribe claimed that every day the sun greeted them first of all, which proved they were the most important; but, on the other hand, the sunset tribe claimed that the sun always deserted the other tribe and came to them, which was evidence that they were the most attractive people. on sky island--at least on the pink side--the sun arose in wonderful splendor, but also it set in a blaze of glory, and so there were arguments on both sides and for want of something better to argue about, the pinkies took this queer subject as a cause of dispute. both tribes acknowledged tourmaline their queen and obeyed the laws of the country, and just at this time there was peace in the land and all the inhabitants of the east and west were friendly. but they had been known, coralie said, to fight one another fiercely with the sharp sticks, at which times a good many were sure to get hurt. "why do they call this an island?" asked button-bright. "there isn't any water around it, is there?" "no, but there is sky all around it," answered coralie; "and, if one should step off the edge, he would go tumbling into the great sky and never be heard of again." "is there a fence around the edge?" asked trot. "only a few places are fenced," was the reply. "usually there are rows of thick bushes set close to the edge, to prevent people from falling off. once there was a king of the pinkies who was cruel and overbearing and imagined he was superior to the people he ruled, so one day his subjects carried him to the edge of the island and threw him over the bushes." "goodness me!" said trot. "he might have hit some one on the earth." "guess he skipped it, though," added cap'n bill, "for i never heard of a pinky till i came here." "and i have never heard of the earth," retorted coralie. "of course there must be such a place, because you came from there, but the earth is never visible in our sky." "no," said button-bright, "'cause it's _under_ your island. but it's there, all right, and it's a pretty good place to live. i wish i could get back to it." "so do i, button-bright!" exclaimed trot. "let's fly!" cried the parrot, turning his head so that one bright little eye looked directly into the girl's eye. "say good-bye and let's fly through the sky, far and high!" "if we only had my umbrella, we'd fly in a minute," sighed button-bright. "but the boolooroo stole it." "naugh-ty, naugh-ty boo-loo-roo; what a wicked thing to do!" wailed the parrot; and they all agreed with him. [illustration] coralie belonged to the sunset tribe, as she lived west of the queen's palace, which was the center of the pink country. a servant came to the room where they were conversing, to state that the sun was about to set, and at once coralie arose and took the strangers to an upper balcony, where all the household had assembled. the neighboring houses also had their balconies and roofs filled with people, for it seemed all the sunset tribe came out every night to witness the setting of the sun. it was really a magnificent sight and trot scarcely breathed as the great golden ball sank low in the sky and colored all the clouds with gorgeous tints of orange, red and yellow. never on the earth was there visible such splendor, and as the little girl watched the ever-changing scene she decided the sunset tribe was amply justified in claiming that the west was the favored country of the sun. "you see," said cap'n bill, "the sky is all around us, an' we're high up; so the sun really loses itself in the clouds an' leaves a trail of beauty behind him." "he does that!" agreed trot. "this is almost worth comin' for, cap'n." "but not quite," said button-bright, sadly. "i'd get along without the sunset if only we could go home." they went in to dinner, after this, and sat at coralie's own table, with her husband and children, and found the meal very good. after a pleasant evening, during which no reference was made to their being prisoners, they were shown to prettily furnished rooms--all in pink--and slept soundly in the soft beds provided for them. trot wakened early the next morning and went out on the balcony to see the sunrise. the little girl was well repaid, for the splendor of the rising sun was almost equal to that of the setting sun. surely this was a wonderful country and much more delightful than the blue side of the island, where the sun was hidden by the great fog bank and only the moon was visible. when she went in she found that both button-bright and cap'n bill were up and dressed, so they decided to take a walk before breakfast. no one restrained them or interfered with them in any way. "they know we can't get away," observed the sailor, "so they don't need to watch us." "we could go into the fog bank again," suggested trot. "we could, mate, but we won't," answered cap'n bill. "if there's no way for us to get clean off'n sky island, i'd rather stay with the pinkies than with the blues." "i wonder what they'll do with us," said button-bright. "the queen seems like a nice girl and i don't think she'll hurt us, whatever happens." they walked freely along the circular street, seeing such sights as the pink city afforded, and then returned to coralie's house for breakfast. coralie herself was not there, as she had been summoned to the queen's palace, but her husband looked after the guests and when breakfast was finished he said to them: "i am to take you to tourmaline, who has promised to decide your fate this morning. i am curious to know what she will do with you, for in all our history we have never before had strangers intrude upon us." "we're curious, too," said trot; "but we'll soon find out." as they walked down the street they observed that the sky was now covered with dark clouds, which entirely hid the sun. "does it ever rain here?" inquired button-bright. "certainly," answered coralie's husband; "that is the one drawback of our country; it rains quite often, and although it makes the flowers and the grass grow i think rain is very disagreeable. i am always glad to see the rainbow, which is a sign that the sun will shine again." "looks like rain now," remarked cap'n bill. "it does," said the man, glancing at the sky. "we must hurry, or we may get wet." "haven't you any umbrellas?" asked button-bright. "no; we don't know what umbrellas are," replied the pinky man. it did not rain at once and they reached tourmaline's wretched hut in safety. there they found quite a number of pinkies assembled, and a spirited discussion was taking place when they arrived. "come in, please," said tourmaline, opening the door for them, and when they had entered she placed a pinkwood bench for them to sit upon and went back to her throne, which was a common rocking-chair. at her right were seated six men and women of the sunrise tribe and on her left six men and women of the sunset tribe, among the latter being coralie. the contrast between the plain, simple dress of the queen and the gorgeous apparel of her counselors was quite remarkable, yet her beauty far surpassed that of any of her people and her demeanor was so modest and unassuming that it was difficult for the prisoners to believe that her word could decree life or death and that all the others were subservient to her. tourmaline's eyes were so deep a shade of pink that they were almost hazel, and her hair was darker than that of the others, being a golden-red in color. these points, taken with her light pink skin and slender form, rendered her distinctive among the pinkies, whatever gown she might wear. when the strangers were seated she turned to them and said: "i have searched through the great book of laws and found nothing about foreign people entering our land. there is a law that if any of the blueskins break through the fog bank they shall be driven back with sharp sticks; but you are not blueskins, so this law does not apply to you. therefore, in order to decide your fate, i have summoned a council of twelve of my people, who will vote as to whether you shall be permitted to remain here or not. they wanted to see you before they cast their final vote, that they may examine you carefully and discover if you are worthy to become inhabitants of the pink country." "the rose is red, the violet's blue, but trot is sweeter than the two!" declared the parrot in a loud voice. it was a little verse cap'n bill had taught the bird that very morning, while trot was seeing the sun rise. the pinkies were startled and seemed a little frightened at hearing a bird speak so clearly. trot laughed and patted the bird's head in return for the compliment. "is the monster man whose legs are part wood a dangerous creature?" asked one of the sunrise tribe. "not to my friends," replied cap'n bill, much amused. "i s'pose i could fight your whole crowd o' pinkies, if i had to, an' make you run for your lives; but bein' as you're friendly to us you ain't in any danger." the sailor thought this speech was diplomatic and might "head off any trouble," but the pinkies seemed uneasy and several of them picked up their slender, pointed sticks and held them in their hands. they were not cowardly, but it was evident they mistrusted the big man, who on earth was not considered big at all, but rather undersized. "what we'd like," said trot, "is to stay here, cosy an' peaceable, till we can find a way to get home to the earth again. your country is much nicer than the blue country, and we like you pretty well, from what we've seen of you; so, if you'll let us stay, we won't be any more trouble to you than we can help." they all gazed upon the little girl curiously, and one of them said: "how strangely light her color is! and it is pink, too, which is in her favor. but her eyes are of that dreadful blue tint which prevails in the other half of sky island, while her hair is a queer color all unknown to us. she is not like our people and would not harmonize with the universal color here." "that's true," said another; "the three strangers are all inharmonious. if allowed to remain here they would ruin the color scheme of the country, where all is now pink." "in spite of that," said coralie, "they are harmless creatures and have done us no wrong." "yes, they have," replied a nervous little sunrise man; "they wronged us by coming here." "they could not help doing that," argued coralie, "and it is their misfortune that they are here on sky island at all. perhaps, if we keep them with us for awhile, they may find a way to return safely to their own country." "we'll fly through the sky by-and-by--ki-yi!" yelled the parrot with startling suddenness. "it that true?" asked a pinky, seriously. "why, we would if we could," answered trot. "we flew to this island, anyhow." "perhaps," said another, "if we pushed them off the edge they could fly down again. who knows?" "we know," answered cap'n bill hastily. "we'd tumble, but we wouldn't fly." "they'd take a fall- and that is all!" observed the parrot, fluttering its wings. there was silence for a moment, while all the pinkies seemed to think deeply. then the queen asked the strangers to step outside while they counseled together. our friends obeyed, and leaving the room they entered the courtyard and examined the rows of pink marble statues for nearly an hour before they were summoned to return to the little room in tourmaline's palace. "we are now ready to vote as to your fate," said the pretty queen to them. "we have decided there are but two things for us to do: either permit you to remain here as honored guests or take you to an edge of the island and throw you over the bushes into the sky." they were silent at hearing this dreadful alternative, but the parrot screamed shrilly: "oh, what a dump! oh, what a jump! won't we all thump when we land with a bump?" "if we do," said cap'n bill, thoughtfully, "we'll none of us know it." [illustration] [illustration] rosalie the witch chapter 16. trot and button-bright had now become worried and anxious, for they knew if they were tossed over the edge of the island they would be killed. cap'n bill frowned and set his jaws tight together. the old sailor had made up his mind to make a good fight for his boy and girl, as well as for his own life, if he was obliged to do so. the twelve counselors then voted, and when the vote was counted tourmaline announced that six had voted to allow the strangers to remain and six to toss them over the bushes. "we seem evenly divided on this matter," remarked the queen, with a puzzled look at her council. trot thought the pretty queen was their friend, so she said: "of course you'll have the deciding vote, then, you being the ruler." "oh, no," replied tourmaline. "since i have asked these good people to advise me it would be impolite to side against some of them and with the others. that would imply that the judgment of some of my counselors is wrong, and the judgment of others right. i must ask some one else to cast the deciding vote." "who will it be, then?" inquired trot. "can't i do it? or cap'n bill, or button-bright?" tourmaline smiled and shook her head, while all the counselors murmured their protests. "let trot do it or you'll rue it!" advised the parrot, and then he barked like a dog and made them all jump. "let me think a moment," said the queen, resting her chin on her hand. "a pink can think as quick's a wink!" the parrot declared. but tourmaline's thoughts required time and all her counselors remained silent and watched her anxiously. at last she raised her head and said: "i shall call upon rosalie the witch. she is wise and honest and will decide the matter justly." the pinkies seemed to approve this choice, so tourmaline rose and took a small pink paper parcel from a drawer. in it was a pink powder which she scattered upon the seat of a big armchair. then she lighted this powder, which at first flashed vivid pink and then filled all the space around the chair with a thick pink cloud of smoke. presently the smoke cleared away, when they all saw seated within the chair rosalie the witch. this famous woman was much like the other pinkies in appearance except that she was somewhat taller and not quite so fat as most of the people. her skin and hair and eyes were all of a rosy pink color and her gown was of spider-web gauze that nicely matched her complexion. she did not seem very old, for her features were smiling and attractive and pleasant to view. she held in her hand a slender staff tipped with a lustrous pink jewel. all the pinkies present bowed very respectfully to rosalie, who returned the salutation with a dignified nod. then tourmaline began to explain the presence of the three strangers and the difficulty of deciding what to do with them. "i have summoned you here that you may cast the deciding vote," added the queen. "what shall we do, rosalie: allow them to remain here as honored guests, or toss them over the bushes into the sky?" rosalie, during tourmaline's speech, had been attentively examining the faces of the three earth people. now she said: "before i decide i must see who these strangers are. i will follow their adventures in a vision, to discover if they have told you the truth. and, in order that you may all share my knowledge, you shall see the vision as i see it." she then bowed her head and closed her eyes. "rock-a-bye, baby, on a tree-top; don't wake her up or the vision will stop," muttered the parrot; but no one paid any attention to the noisy bird. gradually a pink mist formed in the air about the witch and in this mist the vision began to appear. first, there was button-bright in the attic of his house, finding the magic umbrella. then his first flight was shown, and afterward his trip across the united states until he landed on the bluff where trot sat. in rapid succession the scenes shifted and disclosed the trial flights, with trot and cap'n bill as passengers, then the trip to sky island and the meeting with the boolooroo. no sound was heard, but it was easy from the gestures of the actors for the pinkies to follow all the adventures of the strangers in the blue country. button-bright was greatly astonished to see in this vision how the boolooroo had tested the magic umbrella and in a fit of rage cast it into a corner underneath the cabinet, with the seats and lunch basket still attached to the handle by means of the rope. the boy now knew why he could not find the umbrella in the treasure chamber, and he was provoked to think he had several times been quite close to it without knowing it was there. the last scene ended with the trip through the fog bank and the assistance rendered them by the friendly frog. after the three tumbled upon the grass of the pink country the vision faded away and rosalie lifted her head with a smile of triumph at the success of her witchcraft. "did you see clearly?" she asked. "we did, o wonderful witch!" they declared. "then," said rosalie, "there can be no doubt in your minds that these strangers have told you the truth." "none at all," they admitted. "what arguments are advanced by the six counselors who voted to allow them to remain here as guests?" inquired the witch. "they have done us no harm," answered coralie, speaking for her side; "therefore we should, in honor and justice, do them no harm." rosalie nodded. "what arguments have the others advanced?" she asked. "they interfere with our color scheme, and do not harmonize with our people," a man of the sunrise tribe answered. again rosalie nodded, and trot thought her eyes twinkled a little. "i think i now fully comprehend the matter," said she, "and so i will cast my vote. i favor taking the earth people to the edge of the island and casting them into the sky." for a moment there was perfect silence in the room. all present realized that this was a decree of death to the strangers. trot was greatly surprised at the decision and for a moment she thought her heart had stopped beating, for a wave of fear swept over her. button-bright flushed red as a pinky and then grew very pale. he crept closer to trot and took her hand in his own, pressing it to give the little girl courage. as for cap'n bill, he was watching the smiling face of the witch in a puzzled but not hopeless way, for he thought she did not seem wholly in earnest in what she had said. "the case is decided," announced tourmaline, in a clear, cold voice. "the three strangers shall be taken at once to the edge of the island and thrown over the bushes into the sky." "it's raining hard outside," announced coralie, who sat near the door; "why not wait until this shower is over?" "i have said 'at once'," replied the little queen, with dignity, "and so it must be at once. we are accustomed to rain, so it need not delay us, and when a disagreeable duty is to be performed the sooner it is accomplished the better." "may i ask, ma'am," said cap'n bill, addressing the witch, "why you have decided to murder of us in this cold-blooded way?" "i did not decide to murder you," answered rosalie. "to throw us off the island will be murder," declared the sailor. "then they cannot throw you off," the witch replied. "the queen says they will." "i know," said rosalie; "but i'm quite positive her people can't do it." this statement astonished all the pinkies, who looked at the witch inquiringly. "why not?" asked tourmaline. "it is evident to me," said the witch, speaking slowly and distinctly, "that these earth people are protected in some way by fairies. they may not be aware of this themselves, nor did i see any fairies in my vision. but, if you will think upon it carefully, you will realize that the magic umbrella has no power in itself, but is enchanted by fairy powers, so that it is made to fly and to carry passengers through the air _by fairies_. this being the case, i do not think you will be allowed to injure these favored people in any way; but i am curious to see in what manner the fairies will defend them, and therefore i voted to have them thrown off the island. i bear these strangers no ill will, nor do i believe they are in any danger. but since you, tourmaline, have determined to attempt this terrible thing at once, i shall go with you and see what will happen." some of the pinkies looked pleased and some troubled at this speech, but they all prepared to escort the prisoners to the nearest edge of the island. the rain was pouring down in torrents and umbrellas were unknown; but all of them, both men and women, slipped gossamer raincoats over their clothing which kept the rain from wetting them. then they caught up their sharp sticks and, surrounding the doomed captives, commanded them to march to meet their fate. [illustration] [illustration] the arrival of polychrome chapter 17. cap'n bill had determined to fight desperately for their lives, but he was a shrewd old sailorman and he found much that was reasonable in the witch's assertion that fairies would protect them. he had often wondered how the magic umbrella could fly and obey spoken commands, but now he plainly saw that the thing must be directed by some invisible power, and that power was quite likely to save them from the cruel death that had been decreed. to be sure, the magic umbrella was now in the blue country, and the fairies that directed its flight might be with the umbrella instead of with them, yet the old sailor had already experienced some strange adventures in trot's company and knew she had managed to escape every danger that had threatened. so he decided not to fight until the last moment, and meekly hobbled along the street, as he was commanded to do. trot was also encouraged by the witch's suggestion, for she believed in fairies and trusted them; but button-bright could find no comfort in their situation and his face was very sad as he marched along by trot's side. if they had followed the corkscrew windings of the street it would have been a long journey to the outer edge of the pink country, but tourmaline took a short cut, leading them through private gardens and even through houses, so that they followed almost a bee line to their destination. it rained all the way and the walking was very disagreeable; but our friends were confronting an important crisis in their strange adventures and with possible death at their journey's end they were in no hurry to arrive there. once free of the city they traversed the open country, and here they often stepped into sticky pink mud up to their ankles. cap'n bill's wooden leg would often go down deep and stick fast in this mud, and at such times he would be helpless until two of the pinkies--who were a strong people--pulled him out again. the parrot was getting its feathers sadly draggled in the rain and the poor bird soon presented a wet and woebegone appearance. "soak us again- drown us with rain!" it muttered in a resigned tone; and then it would turn to trot and moan: "the rose is red, the violet's blue; the pinkies are a beastly crew!" the country was not so trim and neatly kept near the edge, for it was evident the people did not care to go too near to the dangerous place. there was a row of thick bushes, which concealed the gulf below, and as they approached these bushes the rain abruptly ceased and the clouds began to break and drift away in the sky. "two of you seize the girl and throw her over," said tourmaline, in a calm, matter-of-fact way, "and two others must throw the boy over. it may take four, perhaps, to lift the huge and ancient man." "more'n that," said cap'n bill, grimly. "i'm pretty sure it'll take all o' you, young lady, an' the chances are you won't do it then." they had halted a short distance from the bushes and now there suddenly appeared through a rift in the clouds an immense rainbow. it was perfectly formed and glistened with a dozen or more superb tintings that were so vivid and brilliant and blended into one another so exquisitely that every one paused to gaze enraptured upon the sight. steadily, yet with wonderful swiftness, the end of the great bow descended until it rested upon the pink field--almost at the feet of the little party of observers. then they saw, dancing gaily upon the arch, a score of beautiful maidens, dressed in fleecy robes of rainbow tints which fluttered around them like clouds. "the daughters of the rainbow!" whispered tourmaline, in an awed voice, and the witch beside her nodded and said: "fairies of the sky. what did i tell you, tourmaline?" just then one of the maidens tripped lightly down the span of the arch until near the very end, leaning over to observe the group below. she was exquisitely fair, dainty as a lily and graceful as a bough swaying in the breeze. "why, it's polychrome!" exclaimed button-bright, in a voice of mingled wonder and delight. "hello, polly! don't you remember me?" "of course i remember button-bright," replied the maiden, in a sweet, tinkling voice. "the last time i saw you was in the land of oz." "oh!" cried trot, turning to stare at the boy with big, wide-open eyes; "were you ever in the land of oz?" "yes," he answered, still looking at the rainbow's daughter; and then he said appealingly: "these people want to kill us, polly. can't you help us?" "polly wants a cracker!--polly wants a cracker!" screeched the parrot. polychrome straightened up and glanced at her sisters. [illustration] "tell father to call for me in an hour or two," said she. "there is work for me to do here, for one of my old friends is in trouble." with this she sprang lightly from the rainbow and stood beside button-bright and trot, and scarcely had she left the splendid arch when it lifted and rose into the sky. the other end had been hidden in the clouds and now the rainbow began to fade gradually, like mist, and the sun broke through the clouds and shot its cheering rays over the pink country until presently the rainbow had vanished altogether and the only reminder of it was the lovely polychrome standing among the wondering band of pinkies. "tell me," she said gently to the boy, "why are you here, and why do these people of the sky wish to destroy you?" in a few hurried words button-bright related their adventure with the magic umbrella, and how the boolooroo had stolen it and they had been obliged to escape into the pink country. polychrome listened and then turned to the queen. "why have you decreed death to these innocent strangers?" she asked. "they do not harmonize with our color scheme," replied tourmaline. "that is utter nonsense," declared polychrome, impatiently. "you're so dreadfully pink here that your color, which in itself is beautiful, has become tame and insipid. what you really need is some sharp contrast to enhance the charm of your country, and to keep these three people with you would be a benefit rather than an injury to you." at this the pinkies looked downcast and ashamed, while only rosalie the witch laughed and seemed to enjoy the rebuke. "but," protested tourmaline, "the great book of laws says our country shall harbor none but the pinkies." "does it, indeed?" asked the rainbow's daughter. "come, let us return at once to your city and examine your book of laws. i am quite sure i can find in them absolute protection for these poor wanderers." they dared not disobey polychrome's request, so at once they all turned and walked back to the city. as it was still muddy underfoot the rainbow's daughter took a cloak from one of the women, partly rolled it and threw it upon the ground. then she stepped upon it and began walking forward. the cloak unrolled as she advanced, affording a constant carpet for her feet and for those of the others who followed her. so, being protected from the mud and wet, they speedily gained the city and in a short time were all gathered in the low room of tourmaline's palace, where the great book of laws lay upon a table. polychrome began turning over the leaves, while the others all watched her anxiously and in silence. "here," she said presently, "is a law which reads as follows: 'everyone in the pink country is entitled to the protection of the ruler and to a house and a good living, except only the blueskins. if any of the natives of the blue country should ever break through the fog bank they must be driven back with sharp sticks.' have you read this law, tourmaline?" "yes," said the queen; "but how does that apply to these strangers?" "why, being in the pink country, as they surely are, and not being blueskins, they are by this law entitled to protection, to a home and good living. the law does not say 'pinkies,' it says any who are in the pink country." "true," agreed coralie, greatly pleased, and all the other pinkies nodded their heads and repeated: "true--true!" "the rose is red, the violet's blue, the law's the thing, because it's true!" cried the parrot. "i am indeed relieved to have you interpret the law in this way," declared tourmaline. "i knew it was cruel to throw these poor people over the edge, but that seemed to us the only thing to be done." "it was cruel and unjust," answered polychrome, as sternly as her sweet voice could speak. "but here," she added, for she had still continued to turn the leaves of the great book, "is another law which you have also overlooked. it says: 'the person, whether man or woman, boy or girl, living in the pink country who has the lightest skin, shall be the ruler--king or queen--as long as he or she lives, unless some one of a lighter skin is found, and this ruler's commands all the people must obey.' do you know this law?" "oh, yes," replied tourmaline. "that is why i am the queen. you will notice my complexion is of a lighter pink than that of any other of my people." "yes," remarked polychrome, looking at her critically, "when you were made queen without doubt you had the lightest colored skin in all the pink country. but now you are no longer queen of the pinkies, tourmaline." those assembled were so startled by this statement that they gazed at the rainbow's daughter in astonishment for a time. then tourmaline asked: "why not, your highness?" "because here is one lighter in color than yourself," pointing to trot. "this girl is, by the law of the great book, the rightful queen of the pinkies, and as loyal citizens you are all obliged to obey her commands. give me that circlet from your brow, tourmaline." without hesitation tourmaline removed the rose-gold circlet with its glittering jewel and handed it to polychrome, who turned and placed it upon trot's brow. then she called in a loud, imperative voice: "greet your new queen, pinkies!" one by one they all advanced, knelt before trot and pressed her hand to their lips. "long live queen mayre!" called out cap'n bill, dancing around on his wooden leg in great delight; "vive la--vive la--ah, ah--trot!" "thank you, polly," said button-bright gratefully. "this will fix us all right, i'm sure." "why, i have done nothing," returned polychrome, smiling upon him; "it is the law of the country. isn't it surprising how little most people know of their laws? are you all contented, pinkies?" she asked, turning to the people. "we are!" they cried. then several of the men ran out to spread the news throughout the city and country, so that a vast crowd soon began to gather in the court of the statues. [illustration] [illustration] mayre, queen of the pink country chapter 18. polychrome now dismissed all but button-bright, cap'n bill, rosalie the witch and the new queen of the pinkies. tourmaline hastened away to her father's house to put on a beautiful gown all covered with flounces and ribbons, for she was glad to be relieved of the duties of queen and was eager to be gaily dressed and one of the people again. "i s'pose," said trot, "i'll have to put on one of tourmaline's common pink dresses." "yes," replied polychrome, "you must follow the customs of the country, absurd though they may be. in the little sleeping chamber adjoining this room you will find plenty of gowns poor enough for the queen to wear. shall i assist you to put one on?" "no," answered trot, "i guess i can manage it alone." when she withdrew to the little chamber the rainbow's daughter began conversing with the witch, whom she urged to stay with the new queen and protect her as long as she ruled the pink country. rosalie, who longed to please the powerful polychrome, whose fairy powers as daughter of the rainbow were far superior to her own witchcraft, promised faithfully to devote herself to queen mayre as long as she might need her services. by the time trot was dressed in pink, and had returned to the room, there was an excited and clamorous crowd assembled in the court, and polychrome took the little girl's hand and led her out to greet her new subjects. the pinkies were much impressed by the fact that the rainbow's daughter was their new queen's friend, and that rosalie the witch stood on trot's left hand and treated her with humble deference. so they shouted their approval very enthusiastically and pressed forward one by one to kneel before their new ruler and kiss her hand. the parrot was now on cap'n bill's shoulder, for trot thought a queen ought not to carry a bird around; but the parrot did not mind the change and was as much excited as anyone in the crowd. "oh, what bliss to kiss a miss!" he shouted, as trot held out her hand to be kissed by her subjects; and then he would scream: "we're in the sky and flyin' high: we're goin' to live instead of die, it's time to laugh instead of cry; oh, my! ki-yi! ain't this a pie!" cap'n bill let the bird jabber as he pleased, for the occasion was a joyful one and it was no wonder the parrot was excited. and, while the throng shouted greetings to the queen, suddenly the great rainbow appeared in the sky and dropped its end right on the court of the statues. polychrome stooped to kiss trot and button-bright, gave cap'n bill a charming smile and rosalie the witch a friendly nod of farewell. then she sprang lightly upon the arch of the rainbow and was greeted by the bevy of dancing, laughing maidens who were her sisters. "i shall keep watch over you, button-bright," she called to the boy. "don't despair, whatever happens, for behind the clouds is always the rainbow!" "thank you, polly," he answered, and trot also thanked the lovely polychrome--and so did cap'n bill. the parrot made quite a long speech, flying high above the arch where polychrome stood and then back to cap'n bill's shoulder. said he: "we pollys know our business, and we're--all--right! we'll take good care of cap'n bill and trot and button-bright you watch 'em from the rainbow, and i'll watch day and night, and we'll call a sky policeman if trouble comes in sight!" suddenly the bow lifted and carried the dancing maidens into the sky. the colors faded, the arch slowly dissolved and the heavens were clear. trot turned to the pinkies. "let's have a holiday to-day," she said. "have a good time and enjoy yourselves. i don't jus' know how i'm goin' to rule this country, yet, but i'll think it over an' let you know." then she went into the palace hut with cap'n bill and button-bright and rosalie the witch, and the people went away to enjoy themselves and talk over the surprising events of the day. "dear me," said trot, throwing herself into a chair, "wasn't that a sudden change of fortune, though? that rainbow's daughter is a pretty good fairy. i'm glad you knew her, button-bright." "i was sure something would happen to save you," remarked rosalie, "and that was why i voted to have you thrown off the edge. i wanted to discover who would come to your assistance, and i found out. now i have made a friend of polychrome and that will render me more powerful as a witch, for i can call upon her for assistance whenever i need her." "but--see here," said cap'n bill; "you can't afford to spend your time a-rulin' this tucked-up country, trot." "why not?" asked trot, who was pleased with her new and important position. "it'd get pretty tiresome, mate, after you'd had a few quarrels with the pinkies, for they expec' their queen to be as poor as poverty an' never have any fun in life." "you wouldn't like it for long, i'm sure," added button-bright, seriously. trot seemed thoughtful. "no; i don't know's i would," she admitted. "but as long as we stay here it seems a pretty good thing to be queen. i guess i'm a little proud of it. i wish mother could see me rulin' the pinkies--an' papa griffith, too. wouldn't they open their eyes?" "they would, mate; but they can't see you," said cap'n bill. "so the question is, what's to be done?" "we ought to get home," observed the boy. "our folks will worry about us and earth's the best place to live, after all. if we could only get hold of my magic umbrella, we'd be all right." "the rose is red, the violet's blue, but the umbrel's stole by the boo-loo-roo!" screamed the parrot. "that's it," said cap'n bill; "the boolooroo's got the umbrel, an' that settles the question." "tell me," said rosalie; "if you had your magic umbrella, could you fly home again in safety?" "of course we could," replied button-bright. "and would you prefer to go home to remaining here?" "we would, indeed!" "then why do you not get the umbrella?" "how?" asked trot, eagerly. the witch paused a moment. then she said: "you must go into the blue country and force the boolooroo to give up your property." "through the fog bank?" asked cap'n bill, doubtfully. "and let the boolooroo capture us again?" demanded button-bright, with a shiver. "an' have to wait on the snubnoses instead of bein' a queen!" said trot. "you must remember that conditions have changed, and you are now a powerful ruler," replied rosalie. "the pinkies are really a great nation, and they are pledged to obey your commands. why not assemble an army, march through the fog bank, fight and conquer the boolooroo and recapture the magic umbrella?" "hooray!" shouted cap'n bill, pounding his wooden leg on the floor; "that's the proper talk! let's do it, queen trot." "it doesn't seem like a bad idea," added button-bright. "do you think the pinkies could fight the blueskins?" asked trot. "why not?" replied the sailorman. "they have sharp sticks, an' know how to use 'em, whereas the blueskins have only them windin'-up cords, with weights on the ends." "the blueskins are the biggest people," said the girl. "but they're cowards, i'm sure," declared the boy. "anyhow," the sailor remarked, "that's our only hope of ever gett'n' home again. i'd like to try it, trot." "if you decide on this adventure," said rosalie, "i believe i can be of much assistance to you." "that'll help," asserted cap'n bill. "and we've one good friend among the blueskins," said button-bright. "i'm sure ghip-ghisizzle will side with us, and i've got the royal record book, which proves that the boolooroo has already reigned his lawful three hundred years." "does the book say that?" inquired trot, with interest. "yes; i've been reading it." "then sizzle'll be the new boolooroo," said the girl, "an' p'raps we won't have to fight, after all." "we'd better go prepared, though," advised cap'n bill, "fer that awful ol' boolooroo won't give up without a struggle. when shall we start?" trot hesitated, so they all looked to rosalie for advice. "just as soon as we can get the army together and ready," decided the witch. "that will not take long--perhaps two or three days." "good!" cried cap'n bill, and the parrot screamed: "here's a lovely how-d'y'-do- we're going to fight the boo-loo-roo! we'll get the six snubnoses, too, and make'em all feel mighty blue." "either that or the other thing," said trot. "anyhow, we're in for it." [illustration] [illustration] the war of the pinks and blues chapter 19. much to the surprise of the earth people the pinkies made no objection whatever to undertaking the adventure. their lives were so monotonous and uninteresting that they welcomed anything in the way of excitement. this march through the unknown fog bank to fight the unknown blueskins aroused them to enthusiasm, and although the result of the expedition could not be foretold and some of them were almost certain to get hurt, they did not hesitate to undertake the war. it appeared that coralie was captain of the sunset tribe and a man named tintint the captain of the sunrise tribe. tintint had a very pink skin and eyes so faded in their pink color that he squinted badly in order to see anything around him. he was a fat and pompous little fellow and loved to strut up and down his line of warriors twirling his long pointed stick so that all might admire him. by rosalie's advice the army of conquest consisted of one hundred sunsets and one hundred sunrises. many more were eager to go, but the witch thought that would be enough. the warriors consisted of both men and women, equally divided, and there was no need to provide uniforms for them because their regular pink clothing was a distinctive uniform in itself. each one bore a long pointed stick as the main weapon and had two short pointed sticks stuck in his belt. while the army was getting ready, rosalie the witch went to the central edge of the fog bank and fearlessly entered it. there she called for the king of the giant frogs, who came at her bidding, and the two held an earnest and long talk together. meantime cap'n bill had the army assembled in the court of the statues, where queen mayre appeared and told the pinkies that the sailorman was to be commander in chief of the expedition and all must obey his commands. then cap'n bill addressed the army and told what the fog bank was like. he advised them all to wear their raincoats over their pretty pink clothes, so they would not get wet, and he assured them that all the creatures to be met with in the fog were perfectly harmless. "when we come to the blue country, though," he added, "you're liable to be pretty busy. the blueskins are tall an' lanky, an' ugly an' fierce, an' if they happen to capture you, you'll all be patched--which is a deep disgrace an' a uncomfertable mix-up." "will they throw us over the edge?" asked captain tintint, nervously. "i don't think it," replied cap'n bill. "while i was there i never heard the edge mentioned. they're cruel enough to do that--'specially the boolooroo--but i guess they've never thought o' throwin' folks over the edge. they fight with long cords that have weights on the ends, which coil 'round you an' make you helpless in a jiffy; so whenever they throw them cords you mus' ward 'em off with your long sticks. don't let 'em wind around your bodies, or you're done for." he told them other things about the blueskins, so they would not be frightened when they faced the enemy and found them so different in appearance from themselves, and also he assured them that the pinkies were so much the braver and better armed that he had no doubt they would easily conquer. on the third day, just at sunrise, the army moved forward to the fog bank, headed by cap'n bill, clad in an embroidered pink coat with wide, flowing pink trousers, and accompanied by trot and button-bright and rosalie the witch--all bundled up in their pink raincoats. the parrot was there, too, as the bird refused to be left behind. they had not advanced far into the deep fog when they were halted by a queer barrier consisting of a long line of gigantic frogs, crouching so close together that no pinkie could squeeze between them. as the heads of the frogs were turned the other way, toward the blue country, the army could not at first imagine what the barrier was; but rosalie said to them: "our friends the frogs have agreed to help us through the fog bank. climb upon their backs--as many on each frog as are able to hold on--and then we shall make the journey more quickly." obeying this injunction, the pinkies began climbing upon the frogs, and by crowding close together all were able to find places. on the back of the king frog rode trot and her parrot, besides rosalie, button-bright, cap'n bill and the captains of the two companies of the army. when all were seated, clinging to one another so they would not slide off, cap'n bill gave the word of command and away leaped the frogs, all together. they bounded a long distance at this jump--some farther than others--and as soon as they landed they jumped again, without giving their passengers a chance to get their breaths. it was a bewildering and exciting ride, but a dozen of the huge jumps accomplished the journey and at the edge of fog bank each frog stopped so suddenly that the pinkies went flying over their heads to tumble into the blue fields of the blue country, where they rolled in a confused mass until they could recover and scramble to their feet. no one was hurt, however, and the king frog had been wise enough to treat his passengers more gently by slowing down at the edge and allowing his riders to slip to the ground very comfortably. [illustration] cap'n bill at once formed his army into line of battle and had them all remove the cumbersome raincoats, which they piled in a heap at the edge of the fog bank. it was a splendid array of warriors and from where they stood they could discover several blueskins rushing in a panic toward the blue city, as fast as their long blue legs could carry them. "well, they know we're here, anyhow," said cap'n bill, "and instead of waitin' to see what'll they do i guess we'll jus' march on the city an' ask 'em to please surrender." so he raised the long sharp stick with which he had armed himself and shouted: "for-rerd--march!" "for-ward--march!" repeated coralie to the sunset tribe. "for-ward--march!" roared tintint to the sunrise people. "march--april--june--october!" screamed the parrot. then the drums beat and the band played and away marched the pinkies to capture the blue city. [illustration] [illustration] ghip-ghisizzle has a bad time chapter 20. the boolooroo was quite busy at the time the pinkies invaded his country. he had discovered the loss of the book of records and after being frightened 'most to death at the prospect of his fraud on the people's being made public, he decided to act boldly and hold his position as boolooroo at any cost. since ghip-ghisizzle was to be the next boolooroo, the king suspected him first of all, so he had the majordomo bound with cords and brought before him, when he accused him of stealing the book of records. of course ghip-ghisizzle denied taking the book, but he became almost as nervous at its loss as had the boolooroo. he secretly believed that button-bright had taken the book from the treasure chamber, and if this were true it might prove as great a misfortune as if the king had kept it locked up. for button-bright had escaped into the fog bank and ghip-ghisizzle was afraid the boy would never again be seen in the blue country. he did not tell the boolooroo of this suspicion, because in that case the king would realize he was secure, and that his deception could never be proved against him. the majordomo simply denied taking the record book, and the boolooroo did not believe he spoke truly. to prevent his rival from ever becoming the ruler of the blue country the boolooroo determined to have him patched, but for some time he could find no other blueskin to patch him with. no one had disobeyed a command or done anything wrong, so the king was in a quandary until he discovered that a servant named tiggle had mixed the royal nectar for cap'n bill, who had been ordered to do it at the time of his capture. this was sufficient excuse for the boolooroo, who at once had tiggle made a prisoner and brought before him. this servant was not so long-legged as ghip-ghisizzle and his head was thicker and his nose flatter. but that pleased the boolooroo all the more. he realized that when the great knife had sliced the prisoners in two, and their halves were patched together, they would present a ridiculous sight and all the blueskins would laugh at them and avoid them. so, on the very morning that the pinkies arrived, the boolooroo had ordered his two prisoners brought into the room of the palace where the great knife stood and his soldiers were getting ready to perform the operation of patching ghip-ghisizzle with tiggle, when a messenger came running to say that a great army of the pinkies had broken through the fog bank. "never mind," said the boolooroo, "i'll attend to them in a minute. i'm busy now." "they are marching on the city," said the frightened messenger. "if you delay, most high and mighty one, we shall all be captured. you'd better save your city first and do your patching afterward." "what!" roared the boolooroo, "dare you dictate to me?" but he was impressed by the man's logic. after locking the prisoners, who were still bound, in the room of the great knife, the ruler hurried away to assemble his soldiers. by this time the pinkies had advanced halfway to the walls of the city, so the first thing the boolooroo did was to order all the gates closed and locked and then he placed a line of soldiers on the wall to prevent any of the pinkies from climbing over. therefore when cap'n bill's army reached the wall he was obliged to halt his ranks until he could find a way to enter the city. now when the boolooroo looked through the blue-steel bars of the main gate and saw the enemy armed with sharp-pointed sticks, he began to tremble; and when he thought how painful it would be to have his body and arms and legs prodded and pricked by such weapons he groaned aloud and was very miserable. but the thought occurred to him that if he could avoid being caught by the pinkies they would be unable to harm him. so he went among his people and reminded them how horrible it would feel to be punched full of holes by the invaders, and urged them to fight desperately and drive the pinkies back into the fog bank. only a few of the blueskins were soldiers, and these all belonged to the king's bodyguard, but the citizens realized they must indeed fight bravely to save themselves from getting hurt, so they promised the boolooroo to do all they could. they armed themselves with long cords having weights fastened to the ends, and practiced throwing these weights in such a manner that the cords would wind around their enemies. also they assembled in the streets in small groups and told each other in frightened whispers that all their trouble was due to the boolooroo's cruel treatment of the earth people. if he had received them as friends instead of making them slaves, they would never have escaped to the pinkies and brought an army into the blue country, that they might be revenged. the blueskins had not liked their boolooroo, before this, and now they began to hate him, forgetting they had also treated the strangers in a very disagreeable manner. meantime the six snubnosed princesses had seen from their rooms in a tower of the palace the army of the pinkies marching upon them, and the sight had served to excite them greatly. they had been quarreling bitterly among themselves all the morning, and strangely enough this quarrel was all about which of them should marry ghip-ghisizzle. they knew that some day the majordomo would become boolooroo, and each one of the six had determined to marry him so as to be the queen--and thus force her sisters to obey her commands. they paid no attention to the fact that ghip-ghisizzle did not want to marry any of them, for they had determined that when it was agreed who should have him they would ask their father to force the man to marry. while they quarreled in one room of the palace ghip-ghisizzle was in danger of being patched in another room; but the six snubnosed princesses did not know that. the arrival of the pinkies gave them something new to talk about, so they hurried downstairs and along the corridors so as to gain the courtyard and take part in the exciting scenes. but as they passed the closed door of the room of the great knife they heard a low moan and stopped to listen. the moan was repeated and, being curious, they unlocked the door--the key having been left on the outside--and entered the room. at once the pinkies were forgotten, for there upon the floor, tightly bound, lay ghip-ghisizzle, and beside him poor tiggle, who had uttered the moans. the six princesses sat down in a circle facing the captives and cerulia said: "ghip, my dear, we will release you on one condition: that you choose a wife from among us and promise to marry the one selected, as soon as the pinkies are driven back into the fog bank." ghip-ghisizzle managed to shake his head. then he said: "really, ladies, you must excuse me. i'd rather be patched than mismatched, as i would be with a lovely snubnosed wife. you are too beautiful for me; go seek your husbands elsewhere." "monster!" cried indigo; "if you choose me i'll scratch your eyes out!" "if you choose me," said cobalt, in a rage, "i'll tear out your hair by the roots!" "if i am to be your wife," screamed azure. "i'll mark your obstinate face with my finger nails!" "and i," said turquoise, passionately, "will pound your head with a broomstick!" "i'll shake him till his teeth rattle!" shrieked sapphire. "the best way to manage a husband," observed cerulia angrily, "is to pull his nose." "ladies," said ghip-ghisizzle, when he had a chance to speak, "do not anticipate these pleasures, i beg of you, for i shall choose none among you for a wife." "we'll see about that," said indigo. "i think you will soon change your mind," added azure. "i'm going to be patched to tiggle, here, as soon as the boolooroo returns," said ghip-ghisizzle, "and it's against the law for a patched man to marry anyone. it's regarded as half-bigamy." [illustration] "dear me!" cried cobalt; "if he's patched he never can be boolooroo." "then he mustn't be patched," declared sapphire. "we must save him from that fate, girls, and force him to decide among us. otherwise, none of us can ever be the queen." this being evident, they proceeded to unbind the long legs of ghip-ghisizzle, leaving his body and arms, however, tied fast together. then between them they got him upon his feet and led him away, paying no attention to poor tiggle, who whined to be released so he could fight in the war. after a hurried consultation the six snubnosed princesses decided to hide the majordomo in one of their boudoirs, so they dragged him up the stairs to their reception room and fell to quarreling as to whose boudoir should be occupied by their captive. not being able to settle the question they finally locked him up in a vacant room across the hall and told him he must stay there until he had decided to marry one of the princesses and could make a choice among them. [illustration] [illustration] the capture of cap'n bill chapter 21. while this was transpiring in the palace cap'n bill and the pinkies had encamped before the principal gate of the city and a tent had been pitched for trot and button-bright and rosalie. the army had been very fearful and weak-kneed when it first entered the blue country, but perceiving that the boolooroo and his people were afraid of them and had locked themselves up in the city, the pinkies grew bolder and longed to make an attack. one of them, in his curiosity to examine the blue city, got a little too near the wall, and a blue soldier throw his cord-and-weight at him. the cord didn't wind around the pinkie, as he was too far off, but the weight hit him in the eye and made him howl lustily as he trotted back to his comrades at full speed. after this experience the invaders were careful to keep a safe distance from the wall. the boolooroo, having made all preparations to receive the enemy, was annoyed because they held back. he was himself so nervous and excited that he became desperate and after an hour of tedious waiting, during which time he pranced around impatiently, he decided to attack the hated pinkies and rid the country of them. "their dreadful color makes me hysterical," he said to his soldiers, "so if i am to have any peace of mind we must charge the foe and drive them back into the fog bank. but take all the prisoners you can, my brave men, and to-morrow we will have a jolly time patching them. don't be afraid; those pink creatures have no blue blood in their veins and they'll run like rabbits when they see us coming." then he ordered the gate thrown open and immediately the blueskins poured out into the open plain and began to run toward the pinkies. the boolooroo went out, too, but he kept well behind his people, remembering the sharp sticks with which the enemy were armed. cap'n bill was alert and had told his army what to do in case of an attack. the pinkies did not run like rabbits, but formed a solid line and knelt down with their long, sharp sticks pointed directly toward the blueskins, the other ends being set firmly upon the ground. of course the blueskins couldn't run against these sharp points, so they halted a few feet away and began to swing their cord-and-weights. but the pinkies were too close together to be caught in this manner, and now by command of cap'n bill they suddenly rose to their feet and began jabbing their sticks at the foe. the blueskins hesitated until a few got pricked and began to yell with terror, when the whole of the boolooroo's attacking party turned and ran back to the gate, their ruler reaching it first of all. the pinkies tried to chase them, but their round, fat legs were no match for the long, thin legs of the blueskins, who quickly gained the gate and shut themselves up in the city again. "it is evident," panted the boolooroo, facing his defeated soldiers wrathfully, "that you are a pack of cowards!" "we but followed your own royal example in running," replied the captain. "i merely ran back to the city to get a drink of water, for i was thirsty," declared the boolooroo. "so did we! so did we!" cried the soldiers, eagerly. "we were all thirsty." "your high and mighty spry and flighty majesty," remarked the captain, respectfully, "it occurs to me that the weapons of the pinkies are superior to our own. what we need, in order to oppose them successfully, is a number of sharp sticks which are longer than their own." "true--true!" exclaimed the boolooroo, enthusiastically. "get to work at once and make yourselves long sharp sticks, and then we will attack the enemy again." so the soldiers and citizens all set to work preparing long sharp sticks, and while they were doing this rosalie the witch had a vision in which she saw exactly what was going on inside the city wall. queen trot and cap'n bill and button-bright saw the vision, too, for they were all in the tent together, and the sight made them anxious. "what can be done?" asked the girl. "the blueskins are bigger and stronger than the pinkies, and if they have sharp sticks which are longer than ours they will surely defeat us." "i have one magic charm," said rosalie, thoughtfully, "that will save our army; but i am allowed to work only one magic charm every three days--not oftener--and perhaps i'll need the magic for other things." "strikes me, ma'am," returned the sailor, "that what we need most on this expedition is to capture the blueskins. if we don't, we'll need plenty of magic to help us back to the pink country; but if we do, we can take care of ourselves without magic." "very well," replied rosalie; "i will take your advice, cap'n, and enchant the weapons of the pinkies." she then went out and had all the pinkies come before her, one by one, and she enchanted their sharp sticks by muttering some cabalistic words and making queer passes with her hands over the weapons. "now," she said to them, "you will be powerful enough to defeat the blueskins, whatever they may do." the pinkies were overjoyed at this promise and it made them very brave indeed, since they now believed they would surely be victorious. when the boolooroo's people were armed with long, thin lances of bluewood, all sharpened to fine points at one end, they prepared to march once more against the invaders. their sticks were twice as long as those of the pinkies and the boolooroo chuckled with glee to think what fun they would have in punching holes in the round, fat bodies of his enemies. out from the gate they marched very boldly and pressed on to attack the pinkies, who were drawn up in line of battle to receive them, with cap'n bill at their head. when the opposing forces came together, however, and the blueskins pushed their points against the pinkies, the weapons which had been enchanted by rosalie began to whirl in swift circles--so swift that the eye could scarcely follow the motion. the result was that the lances of the boolooroo's people could not touch the pinkies, but were thrust aside with violence and either broken in two or sent hurling through the air in all directions. finding themselves so suddenly disarmed, the amazed blueskins turned about and ran again, while cap'n bill, greatly excited by his victory, shouted to his followers to pursue the enemy, and hobbled after them as fast as he could make his wooden leg go, swinging his sharp stick as he advanced. the blues were in such a frightened, confused mass that they got in one another's way and could not make very good progress on the retreat, so the old sailor soon caught up with them and began jabbing at the crowd with his stick. unfortunately the pinkies had not followed their commander, being for the moment dazed by their success, so that cap'n bill was all alone among the blueskins when he stepped his wooden leg into a hole in the ground and tumbled full length, his sharp stick flying from his hand and pricking the boolooroo in the leg as it fell. at this the ruler of the blues stopped short in his flight to yell with terror, but seeing that only the sailorman was pursuing them and that this solitary foe had tumbled flat upon the ground, he issued a command and several of his people fell upon poor cap'n bill, seized him in their long arms and carried him struggling into the city, where he was fast bound. then a panic fell upon the pinkies at the loss of their leader, and trot and button-bright called out in vain for them to rescue cap'n bill. by the time the army recovered their wits and prepared to obey, it was too late. and, although trot ran with them, in her eagerness to save her friend, the gate was found to be fast barred and she knew it was impossible for them to force an entrance into the city. so she went sorrowfully back to the camp, followed by the pinkies, and asked rosalie what could be done. "i'm sure i do not know," replied the witch. "i cannot use another magic charm until three days have expired, but if they do not harm cap'n bill during that time i believe i can then find a way to save him." "three days is a long time," remarked trot, dismally. "the boolooroo may decide to patch him at once," added button-bright, with equal sadness, for he too mourned the sailor's loss. "it can't be helped," replied rosalie. "i am not a fairy, my dears, but merely a witch, and so my magic powers are limited. we can only hope that the boolooroo won't patch cap'n bill for three days." when night settled down upon the camp of the pinkies, where many tents had now been pitched, all the invaders were filled with gloom. the band tried to enliven them by playing the "dead march," but it was not a success. the pinkies were despondent in spite of the fact that they had repulsed the attack of the blues, for as yet they had not succeeded in gaining the city or finding the magic umbrella, and the blue dusk of this dread country--which was so different from their own land of sunsets--made them all very nervous. they saw the moon rise for the first time in their lives, and its cold, silvery radiance made them shudder and prevented them from going to sleep. trot tried to interest them by telling them that on the earth the people had both the sun and the moon, and loved them both; but nevertheless it is certain that had not the terrible fog bank stood between them and the pink land most of the invading army would have promptly deserted and gone back home. [illustration] trot couldn't sleep, either, she was so worried over cap'n bill. she went back to the tent where rosalie and button-bright were sitting in the moonlight and asked the witch if there was no way in which she could secretly get into the city of the blues and search for her friend. rosalie thought it over for some time and then replied: "we can make a rope ladder that will enable you to climb to the top of the wall, and then you can lower it to the other side and descend into the city. but, if anyone should see you, you would be captured." "i'll risk that," said the child, excited at the prospect of gaining the side of cap'n bill in this adventurous way. "please make the rope ladder at once, rosalie!" so the witch took some ropes and knotted together a ladder long enough to reach to the top of the wall. when it was finished, the three--rosalie, trot and button-bright--stole out into the moonlight and crept unobserved into the shadow of the wall. the blueskins were not keeping a very close watch, as they were confident the pinkies could not get into the city. the hardest part of rosalie's task was to toss up one end of the rope ladder until it would catch on some projection on top of the wall. there were few such projections, but after creeping along the wall for a distance they saw the end of a broken flagstaff near the top edge. the witch tossed up the ladder, trying to catch it upon this point, and on the seventh attempt she succeeded. "good!" cried trot; "now i can climb up." "don't you want me to go with you?" asked button-bright, a little wistfully. "no," said the girl; "you must stay to lead the army. and, if you can think of a way, you must try to rescue us. perhaps i'll be able to save cap'n bill myself; but if i don't it's all up to you, button-bright." "i'll do my best," he promised. "and here--keep my polly till i come back," added trot, giving him the bird. "i can't take it with me, for it would be a bother, an' if it tried to spout po'try i'd be discovered in a jiffy." as the beautiful witch kissed the little girl good-bye she slipped upon her finger a curious ring. at once button-bright exclaimed: "why, where has she gone?" "i'm right here," said trot's voice by his side. "can't you see me?" "no," replied the boy, mystified. rosalie laughed. "it's a magic ring i've loaned you, my dear," said she, "and as long as you wear it you will be invisible to all eyes--those of blueskins and pinkies alike. i'm going to let you wear this wonderful ring, for it will save you from being discovered by your enemies. if at any time you wish to be seen, take the ring from your finger; but as long as you wear it, no one can see you--not even earth people." "oh, thank you!" cried trot. "that will be fine." "i see you have another ring on your hand," said rosalie, "and i perceive it is enchanted in some way. where did you get it?" "the queen of the mermaids gave it to me," answered trot; "but sky island is so far away from the sea that the ring won't do me any good while i'm here. it's only to call the mermaids to me if i need them, and they can't swim in the sky, you see." rosalie smiled and kissed her again. "be brave, my dear," she said, "and i am sure you will be able to find cap'n bill without getting in danger yourself. but be careful not to let any blueskin touch you, for while you are in contact with any person you will become visible. keep out of their way and you will be perfectly safe. don't lose the ring, for you must give it back to me when you return. it is one of my witchcraft treasures and i need it in my business." then trot climbed the ladder, although neither button-bright nor rosalie could see her do so, and when she was on top the broad wall she pulled up the knotted ropes and began to search for a place to let it down on the other side. a little way off she found a bluestone seat, near to the inner edge, and attaching the ladder to this she easily descended it and found herself in the blue city. a guard was pacing up and down near her, but as he could not see the girl he of course paid no attention to her. so, after marking the place where the ladder hung, that she might know how to reach it again, trot hurried away through the streets of the city. [illustration] [illustration] trot's invisible adventure chapter 22. all the blueskins except a few sentries had gone to bed and were sound asleep. a blue gloom hung over the city, which was scarcely relieved by a few bluish, wavering lights here and there, but trot knew the general direction in which the palace lay and she decided to go there first. she believed the boolooroo would surely keep so important a prisoner as cap'n bill locked up in his own palace. once or twice the little girl lost her way, for the streets were very puzzling to one not accustomed to them, but finally she sighted the great palace and went up to the entrance. there she found a double guard posted. they were sitting on a bench outside the doorway and both stood up as she approached. "we thought we heard footsteps," said one. "so did we," replied the other; "yet there is no one in sight." trot then saw that the guards were the two patched men, jimfred jonesjinks and fredjim jinksjones, who had been talking together quite cheerfully. it was the first time the girl had seen them together and she marveled at the queer patching that had so strongly united them, yet so thoroughly separated them. "you see," remarked jimfred, as they seated themselves again upon the bench, "the boolooroo has ordered the patching to take place to-morrow morning after breakfast. the old earth man is to be patched to poor tiggle, instead of ghip-ghisizzle, who has in some way managed to escape from the room of the great knife--no one knows how but tiggle, and tiggle won't tell." "we're sorry for anyone who has to be patched," replied fredjim in a reflective tone, "for although it didn't hurt us as much as we expected, it's a terrible mix-up to be in--until we become used to our strange combination. you and we are about alike now, jimfred, although we were so different before." "not so," said jimfred; "we are really more intelligent than you are, for the left side of our brain was always the keenest before we were patched." "that may be," admitted fredjim, "but we are much the strongest, because our right arm was by far the best before we were patched." "we are not sure of that," responded jimfred, "for we have a right arm, too, and it is pretty strong." "we will test it," suggested the other, "by all pulling upon one end of this bench with our right arms. whichever can pull the bench from the others must be the stronger." while they were tussling at the bench, dragging it first here and then there in the trial of strength, trot opened the door of the palace and walked in. it was pretty dark in the hall and only a few dim blue lights showed at intervals down the long corridors. as the girl walked through these passages she could hear snores of various degrees coming from behind some of the closed doors and knew that all the regular inmates of the place were sound asleep. so she mounted to the upper floor, and thinking she would be likely to find cap'n bill in the room of the great knife she went there and tried the door. it was locked, but the key had been left on the outside. she waited until the sentry who was pacing the corridor had his back toward her and then she turned the key and slipped within, softly closing the door behind her. it was dark as pitch in the room and trot didn't know how to make a light. after a moment's thought she began feeling her way to the window, stumbling over objects as she went. every time she made a noise some one groaned, and that made the child uneasy. at last she found a window and managed to open the shutters and let the moonlight in. it wasn't a very strong moonlight but it enabled her to examine the interior of the room. in the center stood the great knife which the boolooroo used to split people in two when he patched them, and at one side was a dark form huddled upon the floor and securely bound. trot hastened to this form and knelt beside it, but was disappointed to find it was only tiggle. the man stirred a little and rolled against trot's knee, when she at once became visible to him. "oh, it's the earth child," said he. "are you condemned to be patched, too, little one?" "no," answered trot. "tell me where cap'n bill is." "i can't," said tiggle. "the boolooroo has hidden him until to-morrow morning, when he's to be patched to me. ghip-ghisizzle was to have been my mate, but ghip escaped, being carried away by the six snubnosed princesses." "why?" she asked. "one of them means to marry him," explained tiggle. "oh, that's worse than being patched!" cried trot. "much worse," said tiggle, with a groan. but now an idea occurred to the girl. "would you like to escape?" she asked the captive. "i would, indeed!" said he. "if i get you out of the palace, can you hide yourself so that you won't be found?" "certainly!" he declared. "i know a house where i can hide so snugly that all the boolooroo's soldiers cannot find me." "all right," said trot; "i'll do it; for when you're gone the boolooroo will have no one to patch cap'n bill to." "he may find some one else," suggested the prisoner. "but it will take him time to do that, and time is all i want," answered the child. even while she spoke trot was busy with the knots in the cords, and presently she had unbound tiggle, who soon got upon his feet. "now, i'll go to one end of the passage and make a noise," said she; "and when the guard runs to see what it is you must run the other way. outside the palace jimfred and fredjim are on guard, but if you tip over the bench they are seated on you can easily escape them." "i'll do that, all right," promised the delighted tiggle. "you've made a friend of me, little girl, and if ever i can help you i'll do it with pleasure." then trot started for the door and tiggle could no longer see her because she was not now touching him. the man was much surprised at her disappearance, but listened carefully and when he heard the girl make a noise at one end of the corridor he opened the door and ran in the opposite direction, as he had been told to do. of course the guard could not discover what made the noise and trot ran little risk, as she was careful not to let him touch her. when tiggle had safely escaped, the little girl wandered through the palace in search of cap'n bill, but soon decided such a quest in the dark was likely to fail and she must wait until morning. she was tired, too, and thought she would find a vacant room--of which there were many in the big palace--and go to sleep until daylight. she remembered there was a comfortable vacant room just opposite the suite of the six snubnosed princesses, so she stole softly up to it and tried the door. it was locked, but the key was outside, as the blueskins seldom took a door-key away from its place. so she turned the key, opened the door, and walked in. now, this was the chamber in which ghip-ghisizzle had been confined by the princesses, his arms being bound tight to his body but his legs left free. the boolooroo in his search had failed to discover what had become of ghip-ghisizzle, but the poor man had been worried every minute for fear his retreat would be discovered or that the terrible princesses would come for him and nag him until he went crazy. there was one window in his room and the prisoner had managed to push open the sash with his knees. looking out, he found that a few feet below the window was the broad wall that ran all around the palace gardens. a little way to the right the wall joined the wall of the city, being on the same level with it. ghip-ghisizzle had been thinking deeply upon this discovery, and he decided that if anyone entered his room he would get through the window, leap down upon the wall and try in this way to escape. it would be a dangerous leap, for as his arms were bound he might topple off the wall into the garden; but he resolved to take this chance. therefore, when trot rattled at the door of his room ghip-ghisizzle ran and seated himself upon the window-sill, dangling his long legs over the edge. when she finally opened the door he slipped off and let himself fall to the wall, where he doubled up in a heap. the next minute, however, he had scrambled to his feet and was running swiftly along the garden wall. trot, finding the window open, came and looked out, and she saw the majordomo's tall form hastening along the top of the wall. the guards saw him, too, outlined against the sky in the moonlight, and they began yelling at him to stop; but ghip-ghisizzle kept right on until he reached the city wall, when he began to follow that. more guards were yelling, now, running along the foot of the wall to keep the fugitive in sight, and people began to pour out of the houses and join in the chase. poor ghip realized that if he kept on the wall he would merely circle the city and finally be caught. if he leaped down into the city he would be seized at once. just then he came opposite the camp of the pinkies and decided to trust himself to the mercies of his earth friends rather than be made a prisoner by his own people, who would obey the commands of their detested but greatly feared boolooroo. so, suddenly he gave a mighty leap and came down into the field outside the city. again he fell in a heap and rolled over and over, for it was a high wall and the jump a dangerous one; but finally he recovered and got upon his feet, delighted to find he had broken none of his bones. some of the blueskins had by now opened a gate, and out rushed a crowd to capture the fugitive; but ghip-ghisizzle made straight for the camp of the pinkies and his pursuers did not dare follow him far in that direction. they soon gave up the chase and returned to the city, while the runaway majordomo was captured by captain coralie and marched away to the tent of rosalie the witch, a prisoner of the pinkies. [illustration] [illustration] the girl and the boolooroo chapter 23. trot watched from the window the escape of ghip-ghisizzle but did not know, of course, who it was. then, after the city had quieted down again, she lay upon the bed without undressing and was sound asleep in a minute. the blue dawn was just breaking when she opened her eyes with a start of fear that she might have overslept, but soon she found that no one else in the palace was yet astir. even the guards had gone to sleep by this time and were adding their snores to the snores of the other inhabitants of the royal palace. so the little girl got up and, finding a ewer of water and a basin upon the dresser, washed herself carefully and then looked in a big mirror to see how her hair was. to her astonishment there was no reflection at all; the mirror was blank so far as trot was concerned. she laughed a little, at that, remembering she wore the ring of rosalie the witch, which rendered her invisible. then she slipped quietly out of the room and found it was already light enough in the corridors for her to see all objects distinctly. after hesitating a moment which way to turn she decided to visit the snubnosed princesses and passed through the big reception room to the sleeping room of indigo. there this princess, the crossest and most disagreeable of all the disagreeable six, was curled up in bed and slumbering cosily. the little blue dog came trotting out of indigo's boudoir and crowed like a rooster, for although he could not see trot his keen little nose scented her presence. thinking it time the princess awoke, trot leaned over and gave her snubnose a good tweak, and at once indigo yelled like an indian and sat up, glaring around her to see who had dared to pull her nose. trot, standing back in the room, threw a sofa pillow that caught the princess on the side of her head. at once indigo sprang out of bed and rushed into the chamber of cobalt, which adjoined her own. thinking it was this sister who had slyly attacked her, indigo rushed at the sleeping cobalt and slapped her face. at once there was war. the other four princesses, hearing the screams and cries of rage, came running into cobalt's room and as fast as they appeared trot threw pillows at them, so that presently all six were indulging in a free-for-all battle and snarling like tigers. the blue lamb came trotting into the room and trot leaned over and patted the pretty little animal; but as she did so she became visible for an instant, each pat destroying the charm of the ring while the girl was in contact with a living creature. these flashes permitted some of the princesses to see her and at once they rushed toward her with furious cries. but the girl realized what had happened, and leaving the lamb she stepped back into a corner and her frenzied enemies failed to find her. it was a little dangerous, though, remaining in a room where six girls were feeling all around for her, so she went away and left them to their vain search while she renewed her hunt for cap'n bill. the sailorman did not seem to be in any of the rooms she entered, so she decided to visit the boolooroo's own apartments. in the room where rosalie's vision had shown them the magic umbrella lying under a cabinet, trot attempted to find it, for she considered that next to rescuing cap'n bill this was the most important task to accomplish; but the umbrella had been taken away and was no longer beneath the cabinet. this was a severe disappointment to the child, but she reflected that the umbrella was surely some place in the blue city, so there was no need to despair. finally she entered the king's own sleeping chamber and found the boolooroo in bed and asleep, with a funny nightcap tied over his egg-shaped head. as trot looked at him she was surprised to see that he had one foot out of bed and that to his big toe was tied a cord that led out of the bedchamber into a small dressing room beyond. trot slowly followed this cord and in the dressing room came upon cap'n bill, who was lying asleep upon a lounge and snoring with great vigor. his arms were tied to his body and his body was tied fast to the lounge. the wooden leg stuck out into the room at an angle and the shoe on his one foot had been removed so that the end of the cord could be fastened to the sailor's big toe. this arrangement had been a clever thought of the boolooroo. fearing his important prisoner might escape before he was patched, as ghip-ghisizzle had done, the cruel king of the blues had kept cap'n bill in his private apartments and had tied his own big toe to the prisoner's big toe, so that if the sailor made any attempt to get away he would pull on the cord, and that would arouse the boolooroo. trot saw through this cunning scheme at once, so the first thing she did was to untie the cord from cap'n bill's big toe and retie it to a leg of the lounge. then she unfastened her friend's bonds and leaned over to give his leathery face a smacking kiss. cap'n bill sat up and rubbed his eyes. he looked around the room and rubbed his eyes again, seeing no one who could have kissed him. then he discovered that his bonds had been removed and he rubbed his eyes once more to make sure he was not dreaming. the little girl laughed softly. "trot!" exclaimed the sailor, recognizing her voice. then trot came up and took his hand, the touch at once rendering her visible to him. "dear me!" said the bewildered sailor; "however did you get here, mate, in the boolooroo's own den? is the blue city captured?" "not yet," she replied; "but _you_ are, cap'n, and i've come to save you." "all alone, trot?" "all alone, cap'n bill. but it's got to be done, jus' the same." and then she explained about the magic ring rosalie had lent her, which rendered her invisible while she wore it--unless she touched some living creature. cap'n bill was much interested. "i'm willing to be saved, mate," he said, "for the boo-l'roo is set on patchin' me right after breakfas', which i hope the cook'll be late with." "who are you to be patched with?" she asked. "a feller named tiggle, who's in disgrace 'cause he mixed the royal necktie for me." "that was nectar--not necktie," corrected trot. "but you needn't be 'fraid of bein' patched with tiggle, 'cause i've set him loose. by this time he's in hiding, where he can't be found." "that's good," said cap'n bill, nodding approval; "but the blamed ol' bool'roo's sure to find some one else. what's to be done, mate?" trot thought about it for a moment. then she remembered how some unknown man had escaped from the palace the night before, by means of the wall, which he had reached from the window of the very chamber in which she had slept. cap'n bill might easily do the same. and the rope ladder she had used would help the sailor down from the top of the wall. "could you climb down a rope ladder, cap'n?" she asked. "like enough," said he. "i've done it many a time on shipboard." "but you hadn't a wooden leg then," she reminded him. "the wooden leg won't bother much," he assured her. so trot tied a small sofa cushion around the end of his wooden leg, so it wouldn't make any noise pounding upon the floor, and then she quietly led the sailor through the room of the sleeping boolooroo and through several other rooms until they came to the passage. here a soldier was on guard, but he had fallen asleep for a moment, in order to rest himself. they passed this blueskin without disturbing him and soon reached the chamber opposite the suite of the six snubnosed princesses, whom they could hear still quarreling loudly among themselves. trot locked the door from the inside, so no one could disturb them, and then led the sailor to the window. the garden was just below. "but--good gracious me! it's a drop o' ten feet, trot," he exclaimed. "and you've only one foot to drop, cap'n," she said, laughing. "couldn't you let yourself down with one of the sheets from the bed?" "i'll try," he rejoined. "but, can _you_ do that circus act, trot?" "oh, i'm goin' to stay here an' find the magic umbrella," she replied. "bein' invis'ble, cap'n, i'm safe enough. what i want to do is to see you safe back with the pinkies, an' then i'll manage to hold my own all right, never fear." so they brought a blue sheet and tied one end to a post of the blue bed and let the other end dangle out the blue window. "good-bye, mate," said cap'n bill, preparing to descend; "don't get reckless." "i won't, cap'n. don't worry." then he grasped the sheet with both hands and easily let himself down to the wall. trot had told him where to find the rope ladder she had left and how to fasten it to the broken flagstaff so he could climb down into the field outside the city. as soon as he was safe on the wall cap'n bill began to hobble along the broad top toward the connecting wall that surrounded the entire city--just as ghip-ghisizzle had done--and trot anxiously watched him from the window. but the blue city was now beginning to waken to life. one of the soldiers came from a house, sleepily yawning and stretching himself, and presently his eyes lit upon the huge form of cap'n bill hastening along the top of the wall. the soldier gave a yell that aroused a score of his comrades and brought them tumbling into the street. when they saw how the boolooroo's precious prisoner was escaping they instantly became alert and wide-awake, and every one started in pursuit along the foot of the wall. of course the long-legged blueskins could run faster than poor cap'n bill. some of them soon got ahead of the old sailorman and came to the rope ladder which trot had left dangling from the stone bench, where it hung down inside the city. the blue soldiers promptly mounted this ladder and so gained the wall, heading off the fugitive. when cap'n bill came up, panting and all out of breath, the blueskins seized him and held him fast. cap'n bill was terribly disappointed at being recaptured, and so was trot, who had eagerly followed his every movement from her window in the palace. the little girl could have cried with vexation, and i think she did weep a few tears before she recovered her courage; but cap'n bill was a philosopher, in his way, and had learned to accept ill fortune cheerfully. knowing he was helpless, he made no protest when they again bound him and carried him down the ladder like a bale of goods. others were also disappointed by his capture. button-bright had heard the parrot squawking: "oh, there's cap'n bill! there's =cap'n bill=! i see him still--up on that hill! it's cap'n bill!" so the boy ran out of his tent to find the sailor hurrying along the top of the wall as fast as he could go. at once button-bright aroused coralie, who got her pinkies together and quickly marched them toward the wall to assist in the escape of her commander in chief. but they were too late. before they could reach the wall the blueskins had captured trot's old friend and lugged him down into the city, so coralie and button-bright were forced to return to their camp discomfited. there ghip-ghisizzle and rosalie were awaiting them and they all went into the witch's tent and held a council of war. "tell me," said ghip-ghisizzle to button-bright, "did you not take the royal record book from the treasure chamber of the boolooroo?" "i did," replied the boy. "i remember that you wanted it and so i have kept it with me ever since that night. here it is," and he presented the little blue book to the majordomo, the only friend the adventurers had found among all the blueskins. ghip-ghisizzle took the book eagerly and at once began turning over its leaves. "ah!" he exclaimed, presently, "it is just as i suspected. the wicked boolooroo had already reigned over the blue country three hundred years last thursday, so that now he has no right to rule at all. i, myself, have been the rightful ruler of the blues since thursday, and yet this cruel and deceitful man has not only deprived me of my right to succeed him, but he has tried to have me patched, so that i could never become the boolooroo." "does the book tell how old he is?" asked button-bright. "yes; he is now five hundred years old, and has yet another hundred years to live. he planned to rule the blue country until the last, but i now know the deception he has practiced and have the royal record book to prove it. with this i shall be able to force him to resign, that i may take his place, for all the people will support me and abide by the law. the tyrant will perhaps fight me and my cause desperately, but i am sure to win in the end." "if we can help you," said button-bright, "the whole pink army will fight for you. only, if you win, you must promise to give me back my magic umbrella and let us fly away to our own homes again." "i will do that most willingly," agreed ghip-ghisizzle. "and now let us consult together how best to take the blue city and capture the boolooroo. as i know my own country much better than you or the pinkies do, i think i can find a way to accomplish our purpose." [illustration] [illustration] the amazing conquest of the blues chapter 24. the shouting and excitement in the city following upon the recapture of cap'n bill aroused the sleeping boolooroo. he found the cord still tied to his big toe and at first imagined his prisoner was safe in the dressing room. while he put on his clothes the king occasionally gave the cord a sudden pull, hoping to hurt cap'n bill's big toe and make him yell; but as no response came to this mean action the boolooroo finally looked into the room, only to find he had been pulling on a leg of the couch and that his prisoner had escaped. then he flew into a mighty rage and running out into the hall he aimed a blow at the unfaithful guard, knocking the fellow off his feet. then he rushed down stairs into the courtyard, shouting loudly for his soldiers and threatening to patch everybody in his dominions if the sailorman was not recaptured. while the boolooroo stormed and raged a band of soldiers and citizens came marching in, surrounding cap'n bill, who was again firmly bound. "so-ho!" roared the monarch, "you thought you could defy me, earth clod, did you? but you were mistaken. no one can resist the mighty boolooroo of the blues, so it is folly for you to rebel against my commands. hold him fast, my men, and as soon as i've had my coffee and oatmeal i'll take him to the room of the great knife and patch him." "i wouldn't mind a cup o' coffee myself," said cap'n bill. "i've had consid'ble exercise this mornin' and i'm all ready for breakfas'." "very well," replied the boolooroo, "you shall eat with me, for then i can keep an eye on you. my guards are not to be trusted, and i don't mean to let you out of my sight again until you are patched." so cap'n bill and the boolooroo had breakfast together, six blueskins standing in a row back of the sailorman to grab him if he attempted to escape. but cap'n bill made no such attempt, knowing it would be useless. trot was in the room, too, standing in a corner and listening to all that was said while she racked her little brain for an idea that would enable her to save cap'n bill from being patched. no one could see her, so no one--not even cap'n bill--knew she was there. after breakfast was over a procession was formed, headed by the boolooroo, and they marched the prisoner through the palace until they came to the room of the great knife. invisible trot followed soberly after them, still wondering what she could do to save her friend. as soon as they entered the room of the great knife the boolooroo gave a yell of disappointment. "what's become of tiggle?" he shouted. "where's tiggle? who has released tiggle? go at once, you dummies, and find him--or it will go hard with you!" the frightened soldiers hurried away to find tiggle, and trot was well pleased because she knew tiggle was by this time safely hidden. the boolooroo stamped up and down the room, muttering threats and declaring cap'n bill should be patched whether tiggle was found or not, and while they waited trot took time to make an inspection of the place, which she now saw for the first time in broad daylight. the room of the great knife was high and big, and around it ran rows of benches for the spectators to sit upon. in one place--at the head of the room--was a raised platform for the royal family, with elegant throne-chairs for the king and queen and six smaller but richly upholstered chairs for the snubnosed princesses. the poor queen, by the way, was seldom seen, as she passed all her time playing solitaire with a deck that was one card short, hoping that before she had lived her entire six hundred years she would win the game. therefore her majesty paid no attention to anyone and no one paid any attention to her. in the center of the room stood the terrible knife that gave the place its name--a name dreaded by every inhabitant of the blue city. the knife was built into a huge framework, like a derrick, that reached to the ceiling, and it was so arranged that when the boolooroo pulled a cord the great blade would drop down in its frame and neatly cut in two the person who stood under it. and, in order that the slicing would be accurate, there was another frame, to which the prisoner was tied so that he couldn't wiggle either way. this frame was on rollers, so that it could be placed directly underneath the knife. while trot was observing this dreadful machine the door opened and in walked the six snubnosed princesses, all in a row and with their chins up, as if they disdained everyone but themselves. they were magnificently dressed and their blue hair was carefully arranged in huge towers upon their heads, with blue plumes stuck into the tops. these plumes waved gracefully in the air with every mincing step the princesses took. rich jewels of blue stones glittered upon their persons and the royal ladies were fully as gorgeous as they were haughty and overbearing. they marched to their chairs and seated themselves to enjoy the cruel scene their father was about to enact, and cap'n bill bowed to them politely and said: "mornin', girls; hope ye feel as well as ye look." "papa," exclaimed turquoise, angrily, "can you not prevent this vile earth being from addressing us? it is an insult to be spoken to by one about to be patched." "control yourselves, my dears," replied the boolooroo; "the worst punishment i know how to inflict on anyone, this prisoner is about to suffer. you'll see a very pretty patching, my royal daughters." "when?" inquired cobalt. "when? as soon as the soldiers return with tiggle," said he. but just then in came the soldiers to say that tiggle could not be found anywhere in the city; he had disappeared as mysteriously as had ghip-ghisizzle. immediately the boolooroo flew into another towering rage. "villains!" he shouted, "go out and arrest the first living thing you meet, and whoever it proves to be will be instantly patched to cap'n bill." the captain of the guards hesitated to obey this order. "suppose it's a friend?" he suggested. "friend!" roared the boolooroo; "i haven't a friend in the country. tell me, sir, do you know of anyone who is my friend?" the captain shook his head. "i can't think of anyone just now, your spry and flighty high and mighty majesty," he answered. "of course not," said the boolooroo. "everyone hates me, and i don't object to that because i hate everybody. but i'm the ruler here, and i'll do as i please. go and capture the first living creature you see, and bring him here to be patched to cap'n bill." so the captain took a file of soldiers and went away very sorrowful, for he did not know who would be the victim, and if the boolooroo had no friends, the captain had plenty, and did not wish to see them patched. meantime trot, being invisible to all, was roaming around the room and behind a bench she found a small coil of rope, which she picked up. then she seated herself in an out-of-the-way place and quietly waited. suddenly there was a noise in the corridor and evidence of scuffling and struggling. then the door flew open and in came the soldiers dragging a great blue billygoat, which was desperately striving to get free. "villains!" howled the boolooroo; "what does this mean?" "why, you said to fetch the first living creature we met, and that was this billygoat," replied the captain, panting hard as he held fast to one of the goat's horns. the boolooroo stared a moment and then he fell back in his throne, laughing boisterously. the idea of patching cap'n bill to a goat was vastly amusing to him, and the more he thought of it the more he roared with laughter. some of the soldiers laughed, too, being tickled with the absurd notion, and the six snubnosed princesses all sat up straight and permitted themselves to smile contemptuously. this would indeed be a severe punishment; therefore the princesses were pleased at the thought of cap'n bill's becoming half a billygoat, and the billygoat's being half cap'n bill. "they look something alike, you know," suggested the captain of the guards, looking from one to the other doubtfully; "and they're nearly the same size if you stand the goat on his hind legs. they've both got the same style of whiskers and they're both of 'em obstinate and dangerous; so they ought to make a good patch." "splendid! fine! glorious!" cried the boolooroo, wiping the tears of merriment from his eyes. "we will proceed with the ceremony of patching at once." cap'n bill regarded the billygoat with distinct disfavor, and the billygoat glared evilly upon cap'n bill. trot was horrified, and wrung her little hands in sore perplexity, for this was a most horrible fate that awaited her dear old friend. "first, bind the earth man in the frame," commanded the boolooroo. "we'll slice him in two before we do the same to the billygoat." so they seized cap'n bill and tied him into the frame so that he couldn't move a jot in any direction. then they rolled the frame underneath the great knife and handed the boolooroo the cord that released the blade. but while this was going on trot had crept up and fastened one end of her rope to the frame in which cap'n bill was confined. then she stood back and watched the boolooroo, and just as he pulled the cord she pulled on her rope and dragged the frame on its rollers away, so that the great knife fell with a crash and sliced nothing but the air. "huh!" exclaimed the boolooroo; "that's queer. roll him up again, soldiers." the soldiers again rolled the frame in position, having first pulled the great knife once more to the top of the derrick. the immense blade was so heavy that it took the strength of seven blueskins to raise it. when all was in readiness the king pulled the cord a second time and trot at the same instant pulled upon her rope. the same thing happened as before. cap'n bill rolled away in his frame and the knife fell harmlessly. now, indeed, the boolooroo was as angry as he was amazed. he jumped down from the platform and commanded the soldiers to raise the great knife into position. when this had been accomplished the boolooroo leaned over to try to discover why the frame rolled away--seemingly of its own accord--and he was the more puzzled because it had never done such a thing before. as he stood, bent nearly double, his back was toward the billygoat, which, in their interest and excitement, the soldiers were holding in a careless manner. at once the goat gave a leap, escaped from the soldiers and with bowed head rushed upon the boolooroo. before any could stop him he butted his majesty so furiously that the king soared far into the air and tumbled in a heap among the benches, where he lay moaning and groaning. the goat's warlike spirit was roused by this successful attack. finding himself free, he turned and assaulted the soldiers, butting them so fiercely that they tumbled down in bunches and as soon as they could rise again ran frantically from the room and along the corridors as if a fiend was after them. by this time the goat was so animated by the spirit of conquest that he rushed at the six snubnosed princesses, who had all climbed upon their chairs and were screaming in a panic of fear. six times the goat butted and each time he tipped over a chair and sent a haughty princess groveling upon the floor, where the ladies got mixed up in their long blue trains and flounces and laces, and struggled wildly until they recovered their footing. then they sped in great haste for the door, and the goat gave a final butt that sent the row of royal ladies all diving into the corridor in another tangle, whereupon they shrieked in a manner that terrified everyone within sound of their voices. as the room of the great knife was now cleared of all but cap'n bill--who was tied in his frame--and of trot and the moaning boolooroo, who lay hidden behind the benches, the goat gave a victorious bleat and stood in the doorway to face any enemy that might appear. trot had been as surprised as anyone at this sudden change of conditions, but she was quick to take advantage of the opportunities it afforded. first she ran with her rope to the goat and, as the animal could not see her, she easily succeeded in tying the rope around its horns and fastening the loose end to a pillar of the doorway. next she hurried to cap'n bill and began to unbind him, and as she touched the sailor she became visible. he nodded cheerfully, then, and said: "i had a notion it was you, mate, as saved me from the knife. but it were a pretty close call an' i hope it won't happen again. i couldn't shiver much, bein' bound so tight, but when i'm loose i mean to have jus' one good shiver to relieve my feelin's." "shiver all you want to, cap'n," she said, as she removed the last bonds; "but first you've got to help me save us both." "as how?" he asked, stepping from the frame. "come and get the boolooroo," she said, going toward the benches. the sailor followed and pulled out the boolooroo, who, when he saw the terrible goat was captured and tied fast, quickly recovered his courage. "hi, there!" he cried; "where are my soldiers? what do you mean, prisoner, by daring to lay hands upon me? let me go this minute or i'll--i'll have you patched _twice_!" "don't mind him, cap'n," said trot, "but fetch him along to the frame." the boolooroo looked around to see where the voice came from and cap'n bill grinned joyfully and caught up the king in both his strong arms, dragging the struggling monarch of the blues to the frame. [illustration] "stop it! how dare you?" roared the frightened boolooroo. "i'll have revenge!--i'll--i'll--" "you'll take it easy, 'cause you can't help yourself," said cap'n bill. "what next, queen trot?" "hold him steady in the frame and i'll tie him up," she replied. so cap'n bill held the boolooroo, and the girl tied him fast in position, as cap'n bill had been tied, so that his majesty couldn't wiggle at all. then they rolled the frame in position underneath the great knife and trot held in her hand the cord which would release it. "all right, cap'n," she said in a satisfied tone, "i guess we can run this blue country ourselves, after this." the boolooroo was terrified to find himself in danger of being sliced by the same knife he had so often wickedly employed to slice others. like cap'n bill, he had no room to shiver, but he groaned very dismally and was so full of fear that his blue hair nearly stood on end. [illustration] [illustration] the ruler of sky island chapter 25. the girl now took off rosalie's ring and put it carefully away in her pocket. "it won't matter who sees me now," she remarked, "an' i want 'em to know that you an' me, cap'n, are running this kingdom. i'm queen o' the pinkies an' booloorooess o' the blues, an ----" "what's that?" asked the sailor. "you're--you're _what_, trot?" "booloorooess. isn't that right, cap'n?" "i dunno, mate. it sounds bigger ner you are, an' i don't like the word, anyhow. s'pose you jus' call yourself the boss? that fills the bill an' don't need pernouncin'." "all right," she said; "queen o' the pinkies an' boss o' the blues. seems funny, don't it, cap'n bill?" just then they heard a sound of footsteps in the corridor. the soldiers had partly recovered their courage and, fearful of the anger of their dreaded boolooroo, whom the princesses declared would punish them severely, had ventured to return to the room. they came rather haltingly, though, and the captain of the guards first put his head cautiously through the doorway to see if the coast was clear. the goat discovered him and tried to make a rush, but the rope held the animal back and when the captain saw this he came forward more boldly. "halt!" cried trot. the captain halted, his soldiers peering curiously over his shoulders and the six snubnosed princesses looking on from behind, where they considered themselves safe. "if anyone dares enter this room without my permission," said trot, "i'll pull this cord and slice your master that once was the boolooroo." "don't come in! don't come in!" yelled the boolooroo in a terrified voice. then they saw that the sailor was free and the boolooroo bound in his place. the soldiers were secretly glad to observe this, but the princesses were highly indignant. "release his majesty at once!" cried indigo from the corridor. "you shall be severely punished for this rebellion." "don't worry," replied trot. "his majesty isn't his majesty any longer; he's jus' a common blueskin. cap'n bill and i perpose runnin' this island ourselves, after this. you've all got to obey _me_, for i'm the booloorooess--no, i mean the boss--o' the blues, and i've a notion to run things my own way." "you can't," said turquoise, scornfully; "the law says----" "bother the law!" exclaimed trot. "i'll make the laws myself, from now on, and i'll unmake every law you ever had before i conquered you." "oh. have you conquered us, then?" asked the captain of the guards, in a surprised tone. "of course," said trot. "can't you see?" "it looks like it," admitted the captain. "cap'n bill is goin' to be my general o' the army an' the royal manager o' the blue country," continued trot; "so you'll mind what he says." "nonsense!" shouted indigo. "march in and capture them, captain! never mind if they do slice the boolooroo. i'm his daughter, and _i'll_ rule the kingdom." "you won't!" screamed cobalt. "i'll rule it!" "i'll rule it myself!" cried cerulia. "no, no!" yelled turquoise; "i'll be the ruler." "that shall be _my_ privilege!" shouted sapphire. cobalt began to say: "i'm the ----" "be quiet!" said trot, sternly. "would you have your own father sliced, so that you could rule in his place?" "yes, yes; of course!" rejoined the six princesses, without a second's hesitation. "well, well! what d' ye think o' that, mr. boolooroo?" asked cap'n bill. "they're undutiful daughters; don't pay any attention to them," replied the frightened boolooroo. "we're not goin' to," said trot. "now, you blue cap'n, who are you and your soldiers going to obey--me or the snubnosed ones?" "you!" declared the captain of the guards, positively, for he hated the princesses, as did all the blueskins. "then escort those girls to their rooms, lock 'em in, an' put a guard before the door." at once the soldiers seized the princesses and, notwithstanding their snarls and struggles, marched them to their rooms and locked them in. while they were gone on this errand the boolooroo begged to be released, whining and wailing for fear the knife would fall upon him. but trot did not think it safe to unbind him just then. when the soldiers returned she told their leader to put a strong guard before the palace and to admit no one unless either she or cap'n bill gave the order to do so. the soldiers obeyed readily, and when trot and cap'n bill were left alone they turned the goat loose in the room of the great knife and then locked the animal in with the boolooroo. "the billygoat is the very best guard we could have, for ever'body's 'fraid o' him," remarked cap'n bill, as he put the key of the room in his pocket. "so now, queen trot, what's next on the program?" "next," said trot, "we're goin' to hunt for that umbrel, cap'n. i don't mean to stay in this dismal blue country long, even if i am the queen. let's find the umbrel and get home as soon as we can." "that suits me," the sailor joyfully exclaimed, and then the two began a careful search through the palace. they went into every room and looked behind the furniture and underneath the beds and in every crack and corner, but no place could they spy the magic umbrella. cap'n bill even ventured to enter the rooms of the six snubnosed princesses, who were by this time so thoroughly alarmed that they had become meek and mild as could be. but the umbrella wasn't there, either. finally they returned to the great throne room of the palace, where they seated themselves on the throne and tried to think what could possibly have become of the precious umbrella. while they were sitting and talking together the captain of the guards entered and bowed respectfully. "beg pardon, your small-sized majesty," said he to trot, "but it is my duty to report that the pinkies are preparing to attack the city." "oh; i'd forgotten the pinkies!" exclaimed the girl. "tell me, captain, have you such a thing as a brass band in this city?" "we have two fine bands, but they are not brass," replied the captain. "their instruments are made of blue metal." "well, order 'em out," commanded trot. "and, say; get all the soldiers together and tell all the people there's going to be a high time in the blue city to-night. we'll have music and dancing and eating and ----" [illustration] "an' neckties to drink, trot; don't forget the royal neckties," urged cap'n bill. "we'll have all the fun there is going," continued the girl, "for we are to entertain the army of the pinkies." "the pinkies!" exclaimed the captain of the guards; "why, they're our enemies, your short highness." "not any more," replied trot. "i'm queen of the pinkies, an' i'm also queen of the blues, so i won't have my people quarreling. tell the blue people we are to throw open the gates and welcome the pinkies to the city, where everybody will join in a grand celebration. and jus' as soon as you've spread the news an' got the bands tuned up and the soldiers ready to march, you let us know and we'll head the procession." "your microscopic majesty shall be obeyed," said the captain, and went away to carry out these commands. [illustration] [illustration] trot celebrates her victory chapter 26. the blue people were by this time dazed with wonder at all the events that had transpired that eventful day, but they still had wit enough to be glad the war was over; for in war some one is likely to get hurt and it is foolish to take such chances when one can remain quietly at home. the blues did not especially admire the pinkies, but it was easier to entertain them than to fight them, and, above all, the blueskins were greatly rejoiced that their wicked boolooroo had been conquered and could no longer abuse them. so they were quite willing to obey the orders of their girl queen and in a short time the blasts of trumpets and roll of drums and clashing of cymbals told trot and cap'n bill that the blue bands had assembled before the palace. so they went down and found that a great crowd of people had gathered, and these cheered trot with much enthusiasm--which was very different from the scowls and surly looks with which they had formerly greeted their strange visitors from the earth. the soldiers wore their best blue uniforms and were formed before the palace in marching order, so trot and cap'n bill headed the procession, and then came the soldiers--all keeping step--and then the bands, playing very loud noises on their instruments, and finally the crowd of blue citizens waving flags and banners and shouting joyfully. in this order they proceeded to the main gate, which trot ordered the guards to throw wide open. then they all marched out a little way into the fields and found that the army of pinkies had already formed and was advancing steadily toward them. at the head of the pinkies were ghip-ghisizzle and button-bright, who had the parrot on his shoulder, and they were supported by captain coralie and captain tintint and rosalie the witch. they had decided to capture the blue city at all hazards, that they might rescue trot and cap'n bill and conquer the boolooroo, so when from a distance they saw the blueskins march from the gate, with banners flying and bands playing, they supposed a most terrible fight was about to take place. however, as the two forces came nearer together, button-bright spied trot and cap'n bill standing before the enemy, and the sight astonished him considerably. "welcome, friends!" shouted cap'n bill in a loud voice; and "welcome!" cried trot; and "welcome!" roared the blue soldiers and the people of the blue city. "hooray!" yelled the parrot, "welcome to our happy home from which no longer will we roam!" and then he flapped his wings and barked like a dog with pure delight, and added as fast as his bird's tongue could speak: "one army's pink and one is blue, but neither one is in a stew because the naughty boolooroo is out of sight, so what we'll do is try to be a jolly crew and dance and sing our too-ral-loo and to our friends be ever true and to our foes----" "stop it!" said button-bright; "i can't hear myself think." the pinkies were amazed at the strange reception of the blues and hesitated to advance; but trot now ran up in front of them and made a little speech. "pinkies," said she, "your queen has conquered the boolooroo and is now the queen of the blues. all of sky island, except the fog bank, is now my kingdom, so i welcome my faithful pinkies to my blue city, where you are to be royally entertained and have a good time. the war is over an' ever'body must be sociable an' happy or i'll know the reason why!" now, indeed, the pinkies raised a great shout of joy and the blues responded with another joyful shout, and rosalie kissed the little girl and said she had performed wonders, and everybody shook hands with cap'n bill and congratulated him upon his escape, and the parrot flew to trot's shoulder and screeched: "the pinkies are pink, the blues are blue but trot's the queen, so too-ral-loo!" when the blueskins saw ghip-ghisizzle they raised another great shout, for he was the favorite of the soldiers and very popular with all the people. but ghip-ghisizzle did not heed the shouting. he was looking downcast and sad, and it was easy to see he was disappointed because he had not conquered the boolooroo himself. but the people called upon him for a speech, so he faced the blueskins and said: "i escaped from the city because the boolooroo tried to patch me, as you all know, and the six snubnosed princesses tried to marry me, which would have been a far greater misfortune. but i have recovered the book of royal records, which has long been hidden in the treasure chamber, and by reading it i find that the boolooroo is not your lawful boolooroo at all, having reigned more than his three hundred years. since last thursday, i, ghip-ghisizzle, have been the lawful boolooroo of the blue country, but now that you are conquered by queen trot i suppose i am conquered, too, and you have no boolooroo at all." "hooray!" cried the parrot; "here's a pretty howdy-do- you haven't any boolooroo!" trot had listened carefully to the majordomo's speech. when he finished she said cheerfully: "don't worry, sizzle dear; it'll all come right pretty soon. now, then, let's enter the city an' enjoy the grand feast that's being cooked. i'm nearly starved, myself, for this conquerin' kingdoms is hard work." so the pinkies and the blues marched side by side into the city and there was great rejoicing and music and dancing and feasting and games and merrymaking that lasted for three full days. trot carried rosalie and captain coralie and ghip-ghisizzle to the palace, and of course button-bright and cap'n bill were with her. they had the royal chef serve dinner at once and they ate it in great state, seated in the royal banquet hall, where they were waited on by a hundred servants. the parrot perched upon the back of queen trot's chair and the girl fed it herself, being glad to have the jolly bird with her again. after they had eaten all they could, and the servants had been sent away, trot related her adventures, telling how, with the assistance of the billygoat, she had turned the tables on the wicked boolooroo. then she gave rosalie back her magic ring, thanking the kind witch for all she had done for them. "and now," said she, "i want to say to ghip-'sizzle that jus' as soon as we can find button-bright's umbrel we're going to fly home again. i'll always be queen of sky island, but the pink and blue countries must each have a ruler. i think i'll make 'sizzle the boolooroo of the blues; but i want you to promise me, ghip, that you'll destroy the great knife and its frame and clean up the room and turn it into a skating-rink an' never patch anyone as long as you rule the blueskins." ghip-ghisizzle was overjoyed at the prospect of being boolooroo of the blues, but he looked solemn at the promise trot exacted. "i'm not cruel," he said, "and i don't approve of patching in general, so i'll willingly destroy the great knife. but before i do that i want the privilege of patching the snubnosed princesses to each other--mixing the six as much as possible--and then i want to patch the former boolooroo to the billygoat, which is the same punishment he was going to inflict upon cap'n bill." "no," said trot, positively, "there's been enough patching in this country and i won't have any more of it. the old boolooroo and the six stuck-up princesses will be punished enough by being put out of the palace. the people don't like 'em a bit, so they'll be outcasts and wanderers and that will make 'em sorry they were so wicked an' cruel when they were powerful. am i right, cap'n bill?" "you are, mate," replied the sailor. "please, queen trot," begged ghip-ghisizzle, "let me patch just the boolooroo. it will be such a satisfaction." "i have said no, an' i mean it," answered the girl. "you let the poor old boolooroo alone. there's nothing that hurts so much as a come-down in life, an' i 'spect the old rascal's goin' to be pretty miser'ble by'm'by." "what does he say to his reverse of fortune?" asked rosalie. "why, i don't b'lieve he knows about it," said trot. "guess i'd better send for him an' tell him what's happened." so the captain of the guards was given the key and told to fetch the boolooroo from the room of the great knife. the guards had a terrible struggle with the goat, which was loose in the room and still wanted to fight, but finally they subdued the animal and then they took the boolooroo out of the frame he was tied in and brought both him and the goat before queen trot, who awaited them in the throne room of the palace. when the courtiers and the people assembled saw the goat they gave a great cheer, for the beast had helped to dethrone their wicked ruler. "what's goin' to happen to this tough ol' warrior, trot?" asked cap'n bill. "it's my idee as he's braver than the whole blue army put together." "you're right, cap'n," she returned. "i'll have 'sizzle make a fine yard for the goat, where he'll have plenty of blue grass to eat. an' i'll have a pretty fence put around it an' make all the people honor an' respec' him jus' as long as he lives." "i'll gladly do that," promised the new boolooroo; "and i'll feed the honorable goat all the shavings and leather and tin cans he can eat, besides the grass. he'll be the happiest goat in sky island, i assure you." as they led the now famous animal from the room the boolooroo shuddered and said: "how dare you people give orders in my palace? i'm the boolooroo!" "'scuse me," said trot; "i neglected to tell you that you're not the boolooroo any more. we've got the royal record book, an' it proves you've already ruled this country longer than you had any right to. 'sides all that, i'm the queen o' sky island--which means queen o' the pinkies an' queen o' the blues--both of 'em. so things are run as i say, an' i've made ghip-ghisizzle boolooroo in your place. he'll look after this end of the island hereafter, an' unless i'm much mistaken he'll do it a heap better than you did." the former boolooroo groaned. "what's going to become of me, then?" he asked. "am i to be patched, or what?" "you won't be hurt," answered the girl, "but you'll have to find some other place to stay besides this palace, an' perhaps you'll enjoy workin' for a livin, by way of variety." "can't i take any of the treasure with me?" he pleaded. "not even a bird cage," said she. "ever'thing in the palace now belongs to ghip-ghisizzle." "except the six snubnosed princesses," exclaimed the new boolooroo, earnestly. "won't you please get rid of them, too, your majesty? can't they be discharged?" "of course," said trot; "they must go with their dear father an' mother. isn't there some house in the city they can all live in, ghip?" "why, i own a little cabin at the end of the town," said ghip-ghisizzle, "and i'll let them use that, as i won't need it any longer. it isn't a very pretty cabin and the furniture is cheap and common, but i'm sure it is good enough for this wicked man and his family." "i'll not be wicked any more," sighed the old boolooroo; "i'll reform. it's always best to reform when it is no longer safe to remain wicked. as a private citizen i shall be a model of deportment, because it would be dangerous to be otherwise." trot now sent for the princesses, who had been weeping and wailing and fighting among themselves ever since they learned that their father had been conquered. when first they entered the throne room they tried to be as haughty and scornful as ever, but the blues who were assembled there all laughed at them and jeered them, for there was not a single person in all the blue country who loved the princesses the least little bit. trot told the girls that they must go with their father to live in ghip-ghisizzle's little old cabin, and when they heard this dreadful decree the six snubnosed ones began to scream and have hysterics, and between them they managed to make so much noise that no one could hear anything else. so ghip-ghisizzle ordered the captain to take a file of soldiers and escort the raving beauties to their new home. this was done, the once royal family departing from the palace with shamed and downcast looks. then the room of the great knife was cleared of its awful furniture. the frames were split into small pieces of bluewood, and the benches chopped into kindling, and the immense sharp knife broken into bits. all the rubbish was piled in the square before the palace and a bonfire made of it, while the blue people clustered around and danced and sang with joy as the blue flames devoured the dreadful instrument that had once caused them so much unhappiness. that evening trot gave a grand ball in the palace, to which the most important of the pinkies and the blueskins were invited. the combined bands of both the countries played the music and a fine supper was served. the pinkies would not dance with the blues, however, nor would the blues dance with the pinkies. the two nations were so different in all ways that they were unable to agree at all, and several times during the evening quarrels arose and there was fighting between them, which trot promptly checked. "i think it will be best for us to go back to our own country as soon as possible," suggested rosalie the witch; "for, if we stay here very long, the blueskins may rise against us and cause the pinkies much trouble." "jus' as soon as we find that umbrel," promised trot, "we'll dive into the fog bank an' make tracks for the land of sunrise an' sunset." [illustration] the fate of the magic umbrella chapter 27. next morning the search for the magic umbrella began in earnest. with many to hunt for it and the liberty of the whole palace to aid them, every inch of the great building was carefully examined. but no trace of the umbrella could be found. cap'n bill and button-bright went down to the cabin of the former boolooroo and tried to find out what he had done with the umbrella, but the old boolooroo said: "i had it brought from the treasure chamber and tried to make it work, but there was no magic about the thing. so i threw it away. i haven't any idea what became of it." the six former princesses were sitting upon a rude bench, looking quite bedraggled and untidy. said indigo: "if you will make ghip-ghisizzle marry me, i'll find your old umbrella." "where is it?" asked button-bright, eagerly. "make ghip-ghisizzle marry me, and i'll tell you," repeated indigo. "but i won't say another word about it until after i am married." so they went back to the palace and proposed to the new boolooroo to marry indigo, so they could get their magic umbrella. but ghip-ghisizzle positively refused. "i'd like to help you," said he, "but nothing will ever induce me to marry one of those snubnoses." "they're very pretty--for blueskins," said trot. "but when you marry a girl, you marry the inside as well as the outside," declared ghip-ghisizzle, "and inside these princesses there are wicked hearts and evil thoughts. i'd rather be patched than marry the best of them." "which _is_ the best?" asked button-bright. "i don't know, i'm sure," was the reply. "judging from their actions in the past, there is no best." rosalie the witch now went to the cabin and put indigo into a deep sleep, by means of a powerful charm. then, while the princess slept, the witch made her tell all she knew, which wasn't a great deal, to be sure; but it was soon discovered that indigo had been deceiving them and knew nothing at all about the umbrella. she had hoped to marry ghip-ghisizzle and become queen, after which she could afford to laugh at their reproaches. so the witch woke her up and went back to the palace to tell trot of her failure. the girl and button-bright and cap'n bill were all rather discouraged by this time, for they had searched high and low and had not found a trace of the all-important umbrella. that night none of them slept much, for they all lay awake wondering how they could ever return to the earth and to their homes. in the morning of the third day after trot's conquest of the blues the little girl conceived another idea. she called all the servants of the palace to her and questioned them closely. but not one could remember having seen anything that looked like an umbrella. "are all the servants of the old boolooroo here?" inquired cap'n bill, who was sorry to see trot looking so sad and downcast. "all but one," was the reply. "tiggle used to be a servant, but he escaped and ran away." "oh, yes!" exclaimed trot; "tiggle is in hiding, somewhere. perhaps he don't know there's been a revolution and a new boolooroo rules the country. if he did, there's no need for him to hide any longer, for he is now in no danger." she now dispatched messengers all through the city and the surrounding country, who cried aloud for tiggle, saying that the new boolooroo wanted him. tiggle, hiding in the cellar of a deserted house in a back street, at last heard these cries and joyfully came forth to confront the messenger. having heard of the old boolooroo's downfall and disgrace, the man consented to go to the palace again, and as soon as trot saw him she asked about the umbrella. tiggle thought hard for a minute and then said he remembered sweeping the king's rooms and finding a queer thing--that might have been an umbrella--lying beneath a cabinet. it had ropes and two wooden seats and a wicker basket all attached to the handle. [illustration] "that's it!" cried button-bright, excitedly; and "that's it!" "that's it!" cried both trot and cap'n bill. "but what did you do with it?" asked ghip-ghisizzle. "i dragged it out and threw it on the rubbish heap, in an alley back of the palace," said tiggle. at once they all rushed out to the alley and began digging in the rubbish heap. by and by cap'n bill uncovered the lunch basket, and pulling on this he soon drew up the two seats and, finally, the magic umbrella. "hurrah!" shouted button-bright, grabbing the umbrella and hugging it tight in his arms. "hooray!" shrieked the parrot; "cap'n bill's a lucky fellah, 'cause he found the old umbrella!" trot's face was wreathed in smiles. "this is jus' the best luck that could have happened to us," she exclaimed, "'cause now we can go home whenever we please." "let's go now--this minute--before we lose the umbrella again," said button-bright. but trot shook her head. "not yet," she replied. "we've got to straighten out things in sky island, first of all. a queen has some duties, you know, and as long as i'm queen here i've got to live up to the part." "what has to be did, mate?" inquired cap'n bill. "well, we've fixed the blue country pretty well, by makin' 'sizzle the boolooroo of it; but the pinkies mus' be looked after, too, 'cause they've stood by us an' helped us to win. we must take 'em home again, safe an' sound, and get a new queen to rule over 'em. when that's done we can go home any time we want to." "quite right, trot," said the sailor, approvingly. "when do we march?" "right away," she replied. "i've had enough of the blue country. haven't you?" "we have, mate." "we've had plenty of it," observed button-bright. "and the pinkies are anxious to get home," added rosalie, who was present. so cap'n bill unhooked the seats from the handle of the umbrella and wound the ropes around the two boards and made a package of them, which he carried under his arm. trot took the empty lunch-basket and button-bright held fast to the precious umbrella. then they returned to the palace to bid good-bye to ghip-ghisizzle and the blues. the new boolooroo seemed rather sorry to lose his friends, but the people were secretly glad to get rid of the strangers, especially of the pinkies. they maintained a sullen silence while coralie and captain tintint formed their ranks in marching order, and they did not even cheer when trot said to them in a final speech: "i'm the queen of sky island, you know, and the new boolooroo has got to carry out my orders and treat you all nicely while i'm away. i don't know when i'll come back, but you'd better watch out an' not make any trouble, or i'll find a way to make you sorry for it. so now, good-bye!" "and good riddance!" screamed the six snubnosed girls who had once been princesses, and who were now in the crowd that watched the departure. but trot paid no attention to them. she made a signal to the pinkie band, which struck up a fine pink march, and then the army stepped out with the left foot first, and away went the conquerors down the streets of the blue city, out of the blue-barred gateway and across the country toward the fog bank. [illustration] [illustration] the elephant's head comes to life chapter 28. when they reached the edge of the fog bank the pinkies all halted to put on their raincoats and button-bright put up his umbrella and held it over himself and trot. then, when everybody was ready, they entered the fog and rosalie the witch made a signal to call the frog king and his subjects to aid them, as they had done before. pretty soon the great frogs appeared, a long line of them facing trot and her pink army and sitting upon their haunches close together. "turn around, so we can get upon your backs," said rosalie. "not yet," answered the frog king, in a gruff, deep voice. "you must first take that insulting umbrella out of my dominions." "why, what is there about my umbrella that seems insulting?" asked button-bright, in surprise. "it is an insinuation that you don't like our glorious climate, and object to our delightful fog, and are trying to ward off its soulful, clinging kisses," replied the frog king, in an agitated voice. "there has never been an umbrella in my kingdom before, and i'll not allow one in it now. take it away at once!" "but we can't," explained trot. "we've got to take the umbrella with us to the pink country. we'll put it down, if you like, an' cross the bank in this drizzle--which may be clingin' an' soulful, but is too wet to be comfort'ble. but the umbrella's got to go with us." "it can't go another inch," cried the obstinate frog, with an angry croak, "nor shall any of your people advance another step while that insulting umbrella is with you." trot turned to rosalie. "what shall we do?" she asked. "i really do not know," replied the witch, greatly perplexed. "can't you _make_ the frogs let us through?" inquired the boy. "no; i have no power over the frogs," rosalie answered. "they carried us before as a favor, but if the king now insists that we cannot pass with the umbrella we must go back to the blue country or leave your umbrella behind us." "we won't do that!" said button-bright, indignantly. "can't we fight the frogs?" "fight!" cried trot; "why, see how big they are. they could eat up our whole army, if they wanted to." but just then, while they stood dismayed at this unfortunate position, a queer thing happened. the umbrella in button-bright's hand began to tremble and shake. he looked down at the handle and saw that the red eyes of the carved elephant's head were rolling fiercely and sending out red sparks of anger in all directions. the trunk swayed from side to side and the entire head began to swell and grow larger. [illustration] in his fright the boy sprang backward a step and dropped the umbrella to the ground, and as he did so it took the form of a complete elephant, growing rapidly to a monstrous size. then, flapping its ears and wagging its tail--which was merely the covered frame of the umbrella--the huge elephant lifted its trunk and charged the line of astonished frogs. in a twinkling the frogs all turned and made the longest leaps their powerful legs enabled them to. the king jumped first of all and in a panic of fear the others followed his example. they were out of sight in an instant, and then the elephant turned its head and looked at button-bright and at once trotted into the depths of the fog. "he wants us to follow," said the boy, gasping in amazement at this wonderful transformation. so immediately they began marching through the fog behind the elephant, and as the great beast advanced the frogs scrambled out of his way and hid themselves in the moist banks until he had passed them by. cap'n bill had to mind his wooden leg carefully and the old sailor was so excited that he mumbled queer sentences about "araby ann knights," and "ding-donged magic" and the "fool foolishness of fussin' with witches an' sich," until trot wondered whether her old friend had gone crazy or was only badly scared. it was a long journey, and all the pinkies were dripping water from their raincoats, and their little fat legs were tired and aching, when the pink glow showing through the fog at last announced the fact that they were nearing the pink country. at the very edge of the fog bank the elephant halted, winked at button-bright, lowered its head and began to shrink in size and dwindle away. by the time the boy came up to it, closely followed by trot and cap'n bill, the thing was only the well-known magic umbrella, with the carved elephant's head for a handle, and it lay motionless upon the ground. button-bright cautiously picked it up and as he examined it he thought the tiny red eyes still twinkled a little, as if with triumph and pride. trot drew a long breath. "that was _some_ magic, i guess!" she exclaimed. "don't you think so, rosalie?" "it was the most wonderful thing i ever saw," admitted the witch. "the fairies who control button-bright's umbrella must be very powerful, indeed!" [illustration] [illustration] trot regulates the pinkies chapter 29. the pinkies were rejoiced to find themselves again in their beloved land of sunrises and sunsets. they sang and shouted with glee and the band uncovered its pink instruments and played the national pink anthem, while the parrot flew from trot's shoulder to cap'n bill's shoulder and back again, screaming ecstatically: "hooray! we're through the wetful fogs where the elephant scared the fretful frogs!" there was a magnificent sunset in the sky just then and it cheered the pinkies and gave them renewed strength. away they hastened across the pink fields to the pink city, where all the pink people who had been left behind ran out to welcome them home again. trot and button-bright, with cap'n bill and rosalie the witch, went to the humble palace, where they had a simple supper of coarse food and slept upon hard beds. in the houses of the city, however, there was much feasting and merrymaking, and it seemed to trot that the laws of the country which forbade the queen from enjoying all the good things the people did were decidedly wrong and needed changing. the next morning rosalie said to the little girl: "will you make tourmaline the queen again, when you go away?" "i'll send for her and see about it," replied trot. but when tourmaline arrived at the palace, dressed all in lovely fluffy robes and with a dainty pink plume in her pink hair, she begged most earnestly not to be made the queen again. "i'm having a good time, just now, after years of worry and uncomfortable living in this uncomfortable old hut of a palace," said the poor girl, "so it would be cruel for you to make me the servant of the people again and condemn me to want and misery." "that seems reason'ble," replied trot, thoughtfully. "rosalie's skin is just as light a pink as my own," continued tourmaline. "why don't you make her the queen?" "i hadn't thought of that," said trot. then she turned to rosalie and asked: "how would you like to rule the pinkies?" "i wouldn't like it," replied the witch, with a smile. "the queen is the poorest and most miserable creature in all the kingdom and i'm sure i don't deserve such a fate. i've always tried to be a good witch and to do my duty." trot thought this over quite seriously for a time. then one of her quaint ideas came to her--so quaint that it was entirely sensible. "i'm the queen of the pinkies just now, am i not?" she asked. "of course," answered rosalie; "none can dispute that." "then i've the right to make new laws, haven't i?" "i believe so." "in that case," said the girl, "i'm goin' to make a law that the queen shall have the same food an' the same dresses an' the same good times that her people have; and she shall live in a house jus' as good as the houses of any of her people, an' have as much money to spend as anybody. but no more. the queen can have her share of ever'thing, 'cordin' to the new law, but if she tries to get more than her share i'll have the law say she shall be taken to the edge an' pushed off. what do you think of _that_ law, rosalie?" "it's a good law, and a just one," replied the witch approvingly. so trot sent for the royal scribbler, who was a very fat pinky with large pink eyes and curly pink hair, and had him carefully write the new law in the great book of laws. the royal scribbler wrote it very nicely in pink ink, with a big capital letter at the beginning and a fine flourish at the end. after trot had signed her name to it as queen she called all of the important people of the land to assemble in the court of the statues and ordered the royal declaimer to read to them the new law. the pinkies seemed to think it was a just law and much better than the old one, and rosalie said: "now no one can object to becoming the queen, since the ruler of the pinkies will no longer be obliged to endure suffering and hardships." "all right," said trot. "in that case i'll make you the queen, rosalie, for you've got more sense than tourmaline has and your powers as a witch will help you to protect the people." at once she made the announcement, telling the assembled pinkies that by virtue of her high office as queen of sky island she would leave rosalie the witch to rule over the pink country while she returned to the earth with her friends. as rosalie was greatly loved and respected, the people joyfully accepted her as their queen, and trot ordered them to tear down the old hut and build a new palace for rosalie--one which would be just as good as any other house in the city, but no better. she further ordered a pink statue of tourmaline to be set up in the court, and also a pink statue of herself, so that the record of all the rulers of the pinkies should be complete. the people agreed to do all this as soon as possible, and some of the leaders whispered together and then asked coralie to be their spokesman in replying to queen trot's speech. coralie stood on a chair and made a bow, after which she thanked trot in the name of the pinkies for leading them safely into the blue country and out again, and for giving them so good a queen as rosalie. the pinkies would be sorry to have their new friends, the earth people, leave them, but asked the queen of sky island to carry with her the royal band of pink gold which she now wore upon her brow, together with the glistening pink jewel set in its center. it would remind her, coralie declared, of the beautiful land of sunset and sunrise and of the fact that the pinkies would always be glad to welcome her back. trot knew she would never return to sky island, but she did not tell them that. she merely thanked coralie and the pinkies and said they might all come to the court after dinner and see her and her comrades fly away through the sky. [illustration] the journey home. chapter 30. after the pinkies had been dismissed, their new queen rosalie, by means of a clever charm, conjured up a dinner table set with very nice things to eat. they all enjoyed a hearty meal and afterward sat and talked over their adventures. "will you take the parrot home with you, trot?" asked cap'n bill. "guess not, cap'n," she answered. "mother wouldn't like to have him hangin' 'round an' screechin' bad po'try ev'ry minute. i'll give him to rosalie, for i'm sure she'll take good care of him." rosalie accepted the gift with pleasure, but the parrot looked sober awhile and then said: "this looks to me like a give-away; but here i am, and here i'll stay. the country's pink, but we'll all be blue when trot goes home, as she says she'll do." they now packed the lunch-basket with the remains of the feast, for they knew a long journey was before them and feared they might be hungry before they landed again. cap'n bill straightened out the ropes and adjusted the seats, while button-bright examined the umbrella to see if it had been injured in any way when the elephant tramped through the fog bank. the boy looked into the small red eyes of the carved elephant's-head handle with some misgivings, but as seen in the strong sunshine the eyes were merely red stones, while the handle plainly showed the marks of the tool that had carved it. when all was ready they went into the court of the statues, where all the pinkies were assembled--together with their pink band--and cap'n bill hooked the swinging seats onto the handle of the magic umbrella. trot kissed rosalie and coralie and tourmaline good-bye and said to them: "if you ever happen to come to earth you must be sure to visit me and i'll try to give you a good time. but p'raps you'll stay here all your lives." "i think we shall," replied rosalie, laughing, "for in all sky island there will be no magic umbrella for us to fly with." "and when you see polychrome," added trot, "jus' give her my love." then she and button-bright seated themselves in the double seat, which was flat upon the pink ground, and cap'n bill sat before them on his own seat, to which the lunch basket had been fastened by means of a stout cord. "hold fast!" said the sailorman, and they all held fast to the ropes while the boy, glancing up toward the open umbrella he held, said solemnly and distinctly: "take us to trot's house on the earth." the umbrella obeyed, at once mounting into the air. it moved slowly at first but gradually increased its speed. first it lifted the seat of the boy and girl, then cap'n bill's seat and finally the lunch-basket. "fly high!--mind your eye! don't cry!--bye-bye!" shouted the parrot from the pink witch's shoulder. trot leaned over and waved her hand. the pink band played as loud as it could--in order that the travelers might hear it as long as possible--and rosalie and coralie and tourmaline threw kisses to their vanishing friends as long as they remained in sight. * * * * * "seems good to be on the way home again," remarked trot, as the umbrella bumped into a big black cloud. "it reely does, mate," answered the sailorman, joyously. fast through the cloud the umbrella swept and then suddenly it sailed into a clear blue sky, across which a great and gorgeous rainbow spread its radiant arch. upon the bow danced the dainty daughters of the rainbow, and the umbrella passed near enough to it for the passengers to observe polychrome merrily leading her sisters, her fleecy robes waving prettily in the gentle breeze. "good-bye, polly!" cried button-bright, and trot and cap'n bill both called out: "good-bye!" polychrome heard and nodded to them smilingly, never halting in her graceful dance. then the umbrella dropped far below the arch, which presently faded from view. it was an exciting ride. scenes presented themselves entirely different from those they had seen on their former voyage, for the sky changes continually and the clouds of the moment are not the clouds of an hour ago. once they passed between two small stars as brilliant as diamonds, and once an enormous bird, whose wings spread so wide that they shadowed the sun, soared directly over them and lost itself in the vague distance of the limitless sky. [illustration] they rode quite comfortably, however, and were full of eager interest in what they saw. the rush of air past them made them hungry, so cap'n bill drew up the lunch-basket and held it so that button-bright and trot could help themselves to the pink food, which tasted very good. and, finally, a dark rim appeared below them, which the sailor declared must be the earth. he proved to be correct and when they came nearer they found themselves flying over the waves of the ocean. pretty soon a small island appeared, and trot exclaimed: "that's the sky island we thought we were goin' to--only we didn't." "yes; an' there's the mainland, mate!" cried cap'n bill excitedly, pointing toward a distant coast. on swept the magic umbrella. then its speed gradually slackened; the houses and trees on the coast could be seen, and presently-â�almost before they realized it-â�they were set down gently upon the high bluff near the giant acacia. a little way off stood the white cottage where trot lived. it was growing dusk as cap'n bill unhooked the seats and button-bright folded up the umbrella and tucked it under his arm. trot seized the lunch-basket and ran to the house, where she found her mother busy in the kitchen. "well, i'm back again," said the little girl. "is supper ready, mama?" button-bright stayed all night with them, but next morning, bright and early, he hooked one of the seats to his magic umbrella, said good-bye to trot and cap'n bill and flew into the air to begin his journey to philadelphia. just before he started trot said: "let me know if you get home safe, button-bright; an' come an' see me again as quick as you can." [illustration] "i'll try to come again," said the boy. "we've had a good time; haven't we, trot?" "the bes' time i _ever_ had!" she replied, enthusiastically. then she asked: "didn't you like it, too, cap'n bill?" "parts o' it, mate," the sailor answered, as he thoughtfully made marks in the sand with the end of his wooden leg; "but seems to me the bes' part of all was gett'n' home again." after several days trot received a postal-card from button-bright. it was awkwardly scrawled, for the boy was not much of a writer, but trot managed to make out the words. it read as follows: "got home safe, trot, and the folks were so worried they forgot to scold me. father has taken the magic umbrella and locked it up in a big strong chest in the attic. he put the key in his own pocket, so i don't know as i'll ever be able to see you again. but i'll never forget the queen of sky island, and i send my love to you and cap'n bill. your friend, button-bright." the end. * * * * * these typographical errors were corrected by the etext transcriber: creid the sailor in a voice=>cried the sailor in a voice which had ben enchanted by rosalie=>which had been enchanted by rosalie went the conquerers down the streets =>went the conquerors down the streets spokeman in replying to queen trot's speech.=>spokesman in replying to queen trot's speech. [illustration] ----------------------------------------------------------------------- the boy aviators on secret service or working with wireless by captain wilbur lawton author of "the boy aviators in nicaragua" new york hurst & company publishers ----------------------------------------------------------------------- boy aviators' series by captain wilbur lawton author of "dreadnought boys series" six titles. cloth bound. price 50c uniform with this volume 1 the boy aviators in nicaragua; or, in league with the insurgents. 2 the boy aviators on secret service; or, working with wireless. 3 the boy aviators in africa; or, an aerial ivory trail. 4 the boy aviators' treasure quest; or, the golden galleon. 5 the boy aviators in record flight; or, the rival aeroplane. 6 the boy aviators' polar dash; or, facing death in the antarctic. 7 the boy aviators' flight for a fortune. sold everywhere. hurst & company publishers new york _copyright_, 1910, by hurst & co. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- contents. i. an important commission ii. the boys meet an old friend,--and an enemy iii. a tramp with field-glasses iv. a plot discovered v. two rascals get a shock vi. the start for the 'glades vii. a night attack viii. the men of the island ix. a message from the unknown x. the captive's warning xi. the black squall xii. pork chops proves his metal xiii. the front door of the 'glades xiv. close quarters with 'gators xv. an island mystery xvi. the boys make an acquisition xvii. the everglades in an aeroplane xviii. a night alarm xix. on the mound-builders' island xx. captain bellman's island xxi. a bold dash xxii. ben stubbs disappears xxiii. the boy aviators trapped xxiv. a startling meeting xxv. quatty as a scout xxvi. lathrop as an air pilot xxvii. hemmed in by flames xxviii. the black aeroplane xxix. the last of bellman's crew ----------------------------------------------------------------------- the boy aviators on secret service; or, working with wireless. chapter i. an important commission. "come in!" the gray-haired man who uttered these words gazed sharply up at the door of the private office of the secretary of the navy's bureau, at washington, d. c., as he spoke. he was evidently anticipating callers of more than usual importance judging from his expectant look. the old negro who had knocked opened the door and respectfully stood waiting. "well, pinckney?" "dey have come, sah." "ah; good,--show them in at once." the old negro bowed respectfully and withdrew. a few seconds later he reappeared and ushered in two bright looking youths of sixteen and fourteen with the announcement in a pompous tone of voice: "messrs. frank and harry chester." frank, the elder of the two brothers, was a well set up youngster with crisp, wavy brown hair and steady gray eyes. harry, his junior by two years, had the same cool eyes but with a merrier expression in them. he, like frank, was a well-knit, broad-shouldered youth. both boys were tanned to an almost mahogany tinge for they had only returned a few days before from nicaragua, where they had passed through a series of strange adventures and perils in their air-ship, the _golden eagle_, perhaps, before her destruction in an electric storm, the best known craft of her kind in the world and one which they had built themselves from top plane to landing wheels. the secretary of the navy, for such was the office held by the gray-haired man, looked at the two youths in front of him with some perplexity for a moment. "you are the boy aviators we have all heard so much of?" he inquired at length with a note of frank incredulity in his voice. "we are, sir," rejoined frank, with just the ghost of a smile playing about his lips at the great man's evident astonishment--and its equally evident cause. "i beg your pardon," hastily spoke up the secretary of the navy, who had observed frank's amusement; "but you seem----" "i know what you were thinking, sir," interrupted frank, "that we are very young to undertake such exacting service as admiral kimball outlined to us in nicaragua." "you have guessed just right, my boy," rejoined the other, with a hearty laugh at frank's taking his thoughts and putting them into such exact words, "but your youth has evidently not interfered with your progress if all the reports i have heard of you are true. sit down," he went on, "and we will talk over the proposal the department has to make to you." the boys set down their straw hats and seated themselves in two chairs facing the grizzled official. both listened attentively as he began. "when admiral kimball wrote to me about you, telling me that he had found in the two sons of planter chester of nicaragua the very agents we wanted for a particularly dangerous and difficult mission," he said, "i at once sent for you to come here from new york to see for myself if his judgment was correct. i have not been disappointed--" the boys colored with pleasure. "my brief observation of you has confirmed to my mind his report and i am going to entrust to you the responsibility of this undertaking. now," he went on impressively, "the government has been experimenting for some time in secret with chapinite, a new explosive of terrific power, the invention--as its name makes apparent--of lieut. bob chapin of the united states navy. i say 'has been experimenting' advisedly. it is so no more. "the formula of the explosive has disappeared from the archives of the department and, what is still more serious, lieutenant chapin himself is missing." "the agents of the secret service force have worked in vain on the case without discovering much more than the one very important fact that the government of a far eastern power has recently been experimenting with an explosive whose effects and manifestations make it almost undoubted that the stuff is chapinite. by a tedious process of observation and deduction the men have traced the shipments as far as the west florida coast but there all clues have ended. weeks of work have left us as much in the dark as ever as to the location of the source of supply of the far eastern power. but that somewhere within the untracked wildernesses of the everglades a plant has been set up in which chapinite is being manufactured in large quantities is a practical certainty to my mind. "it is useless for the secret service men to attempt to explore what is still an unmapped labyrinth of swamp and jungle and above all it would occupy time. what we have to do is to act quickly. i racked my brain for days until i happened to come across a paragraph in a newspaper calling attention to your wonderful flights in the _golden eagle_, and then followed admiral kimball's dispatch. it struck me at once that here indeed was a way of locating these men that might prove feasible--i say 'might' because if you boys accept the commission i do not want to absolutely impose the condition of success upon you. all that we shall expect of you is that you will do your best. "will you accept the assignment?" the blunt question almost took the boys off their feet so to speak. they exchanged glances and then frank said: "as you perhaps know, sir, our first aeroplane, the _golden eagle_----" "in which you rescued william barnes, a newspaper correspondent, from a camp in which he was held prisoner," remarked the secretary--"you see i have followed your doings closely." "exactly," went on frank; "that first _golden eagle_ is at the bottom of the sea. she went down when we were driven off the land in a tropical electric storm and it was only the fact that she was equipped with wireless, with which we signaled a passing steamer, that saved us from sharing her fate. "we might, however, construct a second one. in fact i have the designs partially drawn up. she would be a more powerful craft than the first and capable of even longer sustained flights." "the very thing!" exclaimed his listener enthusiastically, "then you will accept the commission?" "i have not yet said that we would," rejoined frank, calmly. "as you have described the situation it looks rather like a wild-goose chase; however, i think that if my brother agrees that we might consent to try to do our best." "of course i agree, frank," cried harry enthusiastically. the very mention of anything that promised exciting adventures was sufficient to enlist harry's ardent interest. "then it is as good as settled," concluded the secretary. "the thing is now, how long will it take you to build this craft?" "we shall require at least three weeks," replied frank. the secretary almost groaned. "it is a long time--or at least it seems so," he corrected, "when there is so much at stake." "it would be quite impossible to construct a suitable aeroplane in a lesser period;" rejoined frank, with finality in his tones. "then i suppose we shall have to exercise patience," remarked the secretary. "you will of course need funds. how much shall you require do you suppose?" "we cannot build a second _golden eagle_ for less than ten thousand dollars to start with," was the quiet reply. "ten thousand dollars?" repeated the secretary, in tones of amazement. "it does sound like a good deal of money," replied frank, "but if you were more familiar with aeroplane construction you would see that it is not exorbitant. everything that enters into the construction of an air craft must be of the very best and strongest material. the engine alone is a heavy item of expense and besides must be of specially prepared metals and hand machined." "i see," replied the secretary. "you know best. i will see that arrangements are made to provide you with everything you require. where do you intend to build the ship?" "there is a place at white plains, some miles out from the town and back in the hills," replied frank, "that is in every way suited for our purpose. it is off any main road and we can work there in quiet. we built the first _golden eagle_ there and i don't think that outside of ourselves and our workmen half a dozen people knew about it." "the very thing," replied the secretary. "of course i need not impress upon you the importance of absolute secrecy in this matter. we have almost positive proof that our every movement is watched by agents of those who have stolen the plans, and who now have lieutenant chapin a prisoner--that is, if they have not made away with him, poor fellow. my own idea is, however, that he has been kidnapped and forced to take charge of the work, as without his direction it would be impossible, even with the aid of the formula, to manufacture the explosive. what i fear is, that after they have made a sufficient quantity to stock up the arsenals of the far eastern power they will destroy their plant and end lieutenant chapin's life. you see the explosive is so powerful that even a small quantity would make the nation possessing it extremely formidable, therefore it is not likely that wherever they have set up their plant they are figuring on a permanent location." "what is the last trace you have of the plotters?" asked frank. for answer the secretary pressed a bell that stood on his table at his elbow. when in response the bowing old negro appeared he said sharply: "send flynn here." flynn turned out to be a thick-set, red-faced man with the neck of a bull and powerful physique. he was one of the most trusted men in the secret service bureau. "flynn," said the secretary when the detective had introduced his huge bulk, "these young men are frank and harry chester, the _boy aviators_, they are going to take up your work where you left it off." "only because we were up against a dead wall," protested the agent. "quite so--quite so; i meant no offence. i know that you did all it was humanly possible to accomplish. what i want you to do now is to outline to these young men the discoveries you made following the morning on which we found the safe opened and the plans gone,--to be followed a few hours later by the discovery that lieutenant chapin had also vanished." "well," said flynn, "cutting out the minor details we discovered that the very same day a big white yacht had cleared from new york without papers and had headed toward the south. we traced her up and found that she had been bought by a mr. brownjohn of beaver street. we looked him up and found he was a ship broker who had bought the craft on telegraphed instructions from washington. we trailed up the telegram and found that it had been sent from the hotel willard by a captain mortimer bellman, who, from what we can find out about him, was considerable of an adventurer and had at one time lived a good deal in the far east. in fact he had only recently come from there. at the marine basin at ulmer park, near coney island, we discovered that a nondescript sort of a crew had been hustled on board and that the yacht had sailed at night without papers a few hours after her purchase was completed. "ten days later the newspapers reported that a large yacht had gone ashore on one of the ten thousand islands on the west coast of the everglades, and the men we sent down there to investigate discovered that the derelict was the mist,--the same yacht that bellman had bought. what was most remarkable, however, was that the boat seemed to have been deliberately wrecked, for everything had been taken off her except her coal and ballast and all the boats were gone. there was no indication that she had been abandoned in a hurry and the reef on which she lay was such an obvious one that even at high water it was clearly visible. now that the mist's boats went into the everglades we are reasonably sure. if they had gone anywhere else we should have got some trace of them by this time, but from that day to this we have not had a word or sign concerning them." "we have heard, however, that the navy of the power we suspect has been conducting experiments with a new explosive and we have also learned that this same explosive is undoubtedly chapinite. we have looked up bellman's record and find that while he was stopping at the willard he received several letters from the government in question and that he paid twenty thousand dollars for the mist. now a man isn't going to pay that much out for a boat and wreck her unless he does it purposely. bellman didn't have that much money anyhow. there is only one conclusion, bellman was simply the agent for some one else and that some one has got a lot of money to spend to secure the most powerful explosive ever discovered." "there you have the case in a nutshell," remarked the secretary as flynn concluded. "there is only one thing that is not clear to me," objected frank. "why should they make the stuff in the everglades. why not manufacture it out and out in the country you have mentioned?" "such a course would have been too full of risks," replied the secretary, "we are at peace with that power and if the stolen formula had been discovered there it would have led to a serious international breach and possibly war. by manufacturing it here and shipping it secretly in small quantities the plotters secure safety from war to their own country." "i see," nodded frank. he pulled out his watch. it was twelve o'clock. "there is a train to new york at one o'clock," he said. "won't you stop and have lunch with me?" asked the secretary. "no, thank you," was the boys' reply; "you see we have a lot of work before us. building an aeroplane in three weeks calls for some tall hustling." chapter ii. the boys meet an old friend,--and an enemy. as the boys hurried from the office of the secretary of the navy they almost collided with a plump faced, spectacled young man in an aggressively loud suit of light summer clothes who was just rushing in. "i say, look out where you are coming, can't you?" he was beginning when he broke off with a cry of delight. the next minute the boys were wringing the hand of billy barnes the youthful newspaper reporter who had been with them in nicaragua and whose life they had saved when he was a captive among the nicaraguans. boy fashion the three slapped each other on the back and went through a continuous pump-handle performance at this unexpected meeting. "what on earth are you doing here?" asked harry when the first enthusiasm of the greetings had worn off. "working," replied billy briefly. "i'm on the washington post." "but i thought you were going to take a holiday after you had realized your money on the sale of your share of the rubies we found in the toltec cave;" said frank wonderingly. "well," rejoined billy, "of course the money i got for my two rubies looked good and it feels pretty nifty to have a check-book in your inside pocket; but i guess i can't be happy unless i'm working. i bought my mother up the state a pretty little place in brooklyn and tried to settle down to be a young gentleman of leisure but it wouldn't do. i wasn't happy. every time i saw the fire-engines go by or read a good thrilling story in the paper i wanted to be back on the job, so i just got out and hustled about for one and here i am." "but what are you doing at the office of the secretary of the navy," demanded the boys. "ah, that's just it," rejoined billy mysteriously, "i'm on the track of the biggest story of my career and i think it's a scoop. can you fellows keep a secret?" "we can do better than that," laughed frank, "we can tell you one. what would you say if we could tell you your errand here?" "that you are pretty good mind-readers," retorted billy promptly. "i can guess yours though. you are here to try to sell the government an air-ship." "wrong," shouted frank triumphantly. "but you--william barnes--" he went on, making a mysterious pass at the other boy's head, "you are here to find out about lieutenant chapin." "how on earth did you know that?" gasped billy, "you are right though. do you know anything about it?" he inquired anxiously. "everything," replied frank. "oh, come off, frank," retorted billy, "that's too much. how on earth can you--?" "that matters not, my young reporter--we do," struck in harry. "give me the story then, will you?" begged billy. "no, we can't do that," replied frank in a graver tone. "oh, of course i wasn't trying to worm it out of you," said billy abashed somewhat. "we know that, billy," said harry kindly. the reporter looked at him gratefully. "i just thought you might have something to give out," went on billy. "i see that you are in the confidence of the naval department." "no, billy," continued frank, "we can't give you anything for publication. but we can do better than that, we can tell you we are about to start on what may prove the most exciting trip we have ever undertaken." "what do you mean?" questioned billy seeing clearly by frank's manner that something very unusual was in the wind. "that we are going to try to find lieutenant chapin and the men who kidnapped him," replied frank; "but come along, billy, we've just an hour before train time and if you feel like having a bite of lunch come with us and we can talk it over as we go along." the young reporter gladly assented and, linked arm in arm, the three boys passed out onto the sunny avenue which was glowing in the bright light of a late may day. frank rapidly detailed to billy the gist of their conversation with the secretary of the navy, having first called up that official on the telephone and secured his permission to enlist billy as a member of the expedition. for frank had made up his mind that the reporter was to come along almost as soon as the boys encountered him. the young journalist could hardly keep from giving a "whoop," which would have sadly startled the sedate lunchers at the willard, as frank talked. he resisted the temptation, however, and simply asked eagerly: "when do you start?" the boys told him. they could see the eager question framing itself on billy's lips. "say, frank, couldn't you take me along?" frank feigned an elaborate indifference. "well, i don't know," he replied, winking at harry as billy's face fell at this apparent refusal, "we might, of course, but really i think we shall have to go 'without a chronicler.'" the boys might have kept the jest up but billy's face grew so lugubrious that they had not the heart to keep him in suspense any longer. "if you would care to come we were sort of thinking of taking you," laughed harry. "if i would care to come?" gasped billy, "jimminy crickets! if i'd care to come! say, just wait a minute while i go to 'phone my resignation." "what an impetuous chap you are," laughed frank, "we don't start for three weeks yet and here you are in a hurry to throw up your job to-day." "well," replied billy somewhat abashed, "i was a bit previous. but it's so white of you chaps to take me along that i hardly know what i'm doing. how i'm to wait three weeks i don't know." "how would you like to help us build the _golden eagle ii_?" asked frank suddenly. "say, frank," burst out billy earnestly, "you are a trump. that was just the very thing i longed to do but i didn't have the nerve to ask you after you were so decent about taking me with you to florida. i don't know how to thank you." "it won't be all a picnic," laughed frank. "we've got a lot of hard work ahead of us and we'll all have to pitch in and take a hand, share and share alike." "you can count on me," exclaimed the reporter eagerly. "i know we can," replied frank, "or we would not have asked you to accompany us." "what are your plans?" asked billy eagerly. "at present so far as i have thought them out," replied frank, "we shall sail from new york for miami about the middle of june. i think it will be best to go by steamer as we can keep a better watch on any suspicious fellow passengers in that way than if we went by train. the key on which the mist was wrecked is on the opposite coast from there, i understand, and the men who kidnapped chapin and stole the plans must have entered the everglades by one of the numerous small rivers that lead back from the coast at the ten thousand island archipelago. "my idea, then, is to establish a permanent camp from which we can work, the location of course to depend entirely on circumstances, that may arise after we reach our destination. we are going into this thing practically blindfold you see, and so we shall have to leave the arrangement of a host of minor details till we arrive there." "you mean to strike right back into the wilderness?" asked billy. "as soon as possible after our arrival at miami," was the businesslike rejoinder. "every minute of our time will be precious. oh, there's heaps to be done," broke off frank. all the boys had to laugh heartily at the wave of the hands with which frank accompanied his last words. but their merriment was cut short by a sharp exclamation from billy. "i say, frank," whispered the young reporter, "have you noticed that fellow at the next table?" he indicated a short dark sallow-faced man sitting at a table a few feet from them and to whom most of their conversation must have been audible. "he's not a beauty," remarked harry in the same low tone; "what about him, billy?" "well," said the reporter seriously, "i may be wrong and i may not--and i rather think i'm not,--but if he hasn't been listening with all his ears to what we've been saying i'm very much mistaken." frank bit his lip with vexation. in their enthusiasm the youthful adventurers had been foolishly discussing their plans in tones which any one sitting near could have overheard without much difficulty. the boys realized this and also that if the man really turned out to have been an eavesdropper that they had involuntarily furnished him with much important information about their plans. the object of their suspicion apparently saw that they had observed him, for as they resumed their talk in lowered tones he called for his bill and having paid it with a hand that flashed with diamonds, he left the dining-room. "have you seen him before?" asked frank of billy. "i was trying to think," replied the reporter. "it seems to me that i have. i am almost certain of it in fact. but i can't think where." "try to think," said frank, "it may be very important." billy cudgeled his brains for a few minutes and then snapped his fingers in triumph. "i've got it," he exclaimed joyously. "i've seen him hanging around the far eastern embassy. i was up there the other day to report a reception and this fellow was wandering around as if he hadn't got a friend in the world." "he might have had an object in that," said frank gravely. "there is no doubt that he was listening to what we were talking about." "and not much question that he heard every word of it," put in harry. "well, it can't be helped," said frank in an annoyed tone, "we shall have to be more cautious in the future. i see that the secretary was right, this place is swarming with spies." "i should say it is," replied billy, "washington is more full of eavesdroppers and secret-service men of various kinds than any other city in the world." if the boys had seen the bediamonded man hasten from the hotel direct to a western union telegraph office where he filed a long telegram, they would have been even more worried than they were. if in addition they had seen the contents of the message they would have been tempted, it is likely, to have abandoned the expedition or at least their present plans, for the message, which was addressed to "mr. job scudder, miami, to be called for," and signed nego, gave about as complete an account of what they intended to do as even billy barnes with his trained ear for catching and marshaling facts could have framed. there was a very amiable smile on mr. nego's face as he left the telegraph office and drew on a pair of light chamois gloves that gave a finishing touch of fashion to his light gray spring clothes, whose every line bore evidence to the fact that they had come from one of the best tailors in washington. he had done a good morning's work. the boys of course had no means of knowing that, even as they hurried to their train, the wires were rushing to florida the news of their coming three weeks before they planned to start and even if they had been aware of it they could not then have stopped it. with billy barnes they dashed up to the pennsylvania depot in a taxi-cab just as the big locomotive of the congressional limited was being backed up to the long train of vestibuled coaches. they had their return tickets so that there was no delay at the ticket window and they passed directly into the depot, and having found their chair car deposited themselves and their hand-baggage in it. billy stayed chatting with them till the conductor cried "all aboard." as the reporter rose to leave he gave a very perceptible start. he had just time to cry to frank: "look behind you," when the wheels began to revolve and billy only avoided being carried off by making a dash for the door almost upsetting the colored porter in his haste. as the train gathered speed frank glanced round as if in search of somebody. he almost started, as had billy, as his eyes encountered the direct gaze of the very black orbs of the man whom they were certain had overheard their conversation at lunch and who had signed the telegram "nego." chapter iii. a tramp with field-glasses. the boys lost no time in explaining to their mother when they reached their home on madison avenue the nature of the enterprise in which they had enlisted their services. that she was unwilling at first for them to embark on what seemed such a dangerous commission goes without saying, but after a lot of persuasion she finally yielded and gave her consent and the delighted boys set out at once for white plains where the large aerodrome in which they had constructed the _golden eagle i_ was still standing. the place was equipped with every facility for the construction of air craft and so no time was lost in preliminaries and two days of hard work saw the variadium steel framework of the _golden eagle the second_ practically complete. the craft was to be a larger one than the _golden eagle i_, which had a wing-spread of fifty-six feet. the planes of her successor were seventy feet from tip to tip and equipped with flexible spring tips that played a very important part in assuring her stability in the air. like the first _golden eagle_ the boys had determined that the new ship, should carry wireless and the enthusiasm of schultz and le blanc, their two assistants, was unbounded as frank placed before them his working drawings and blue prints which bore on paper the craft which they expected to eclipse anything ever seen or heard of in the aerial world for speed and stability. the old _golden eagle_ had been equipped with a fifty horse-power double-opposed engine with jump spark ignition. the boys for the new craft had determined to invest in a one hundred horse-power machine of similar type and equipped with the same ignition apparatus. as in the other ship they planned to have the driving power furnished by twin screws but, whereas in the first ship the propellers had been of oiled silk on braced steel frames in the new _golden eagle_ the screws were of laminated wood, razor sharp at the edges and with a high pitch. except for her increased size the _golden eagle ii_ did not differ in other respects from her predecessor. her planes were covered with the same yellow-hued balloon silk that had given the first craft her name and the arrangement of pilot-house and navigating instruments was much the same. the boys, however, planned to give her a couple of low transoms running the length of each side of the pilot-house on which the occupants could sleep on cushions stuffed with a very light grade of vegetable wool. a light aluminum framework, which could be covered in with canvas in bad weather, or mosquito netting in the tropics, forming in the former case,--a weather-tight pilot-house with a mica window in front for the steersman, was another improved feature. billy barnes was astonished when a few days later, having resigned his newspaper job, he was met at the white plains station by frank and harry, and found, on his arrival at the aerodrome a framework which was rapidly beginning to assume very much the look of a real air-ship. the enthusiastic reporter crawled under it and round it and pulled it and poked it from every possible angle till old schultz, angrily exclaimed: "ach, vas is dis boy crazy, hein?" billy was nearly crazy with joy he exclaimed and the old german's heart warmed toward him for the interest he displayed in the craft which schultz regarded as being as much his own creation as anyone else's. "well, you certainly look like business here," exclaimed billy as he gazed about him. what with the lathes, the work-tables, the blue prints and plans, the shaded drop-lights and the small gasolene motor,--used to test propellers and run the machinery of the shop,--frank and harry were indeed as billy said, "running a young factory." "you picked out a private spot," exclaimed billy, gazing out of the tall aerodrome doors at the low, wooded hills that surrounded them. "well," laughed frank, "if we hadn't we'd have half the population of white plains around here trying to get on to what we were doing and spreading all sorts of reports." "oh, by the way," asked billy, "did you have any more manifestations from our dark-skinned friend on your way to new york?" "no," replied frank, "he sat in his chair and read the papers and apparently paid no more attention to us. i really begin to think that we may have been mistaken." "i guess so," said billy lightly; "maybe he was just some rubber-neck who was surprised to hear three boys talking so glibly about invading the everglades in an airship." with that the subject was dropped, for harry, who had just entered the workshop from the small barn outside, where he had been putting the horse up, carried billy off to show him the "camp" as the boys laughingly called it. the eating and sleeping quarters were in a small portable house, a short distance from the main aerodrome. it was divided into a dining and a sleeping room. the latter neatly furnished with three cots--a third having been added to frank and harry's for billy's use that very morning. on its wall hung a few pictures of noted aviators, a shelf of technical books on aviation and the usual odds and ends that every boy likes to have about him. the two mechanics took their meals in the house and slept in the aerodrome. the cooking was done by le blanc who, like most of his countrymen, was a first-rate chef. "camp!" exclaimed the admiring billy after he had been shown over the little domain, "i call it a mansion. different from old camp plateau in nicaragua, eh?" "and you came very nearly been shaken out of even that;" put in harry with a laugh. "i should say so," rejoined the reporter. "b-r-r-r-r! it makes my teeth chatter now when i think of the rain of stones that came from the toltec ravine. by the way," he broke off suddenly, "where is good old ben stubbs?" the boys laughed knowingly and exchanged glances. "go ahead and tell him, frank," urged harry. "well," said frank, "as you know, billy, we gave ben one of the rubies as his share of the loot of the one-eyed quesals and as a partial recognition of his bravery in rescuing us from the white serpents." billy nodded and waited eagerly for frank to resume. ben stubbs, the hardy ex-sailor, prospector and adventurer, whom they had discovered marooned in an inaccessible valley in the nicaraguan cordilleras, was very dear to the hearts of all the boys. "what do you suppose he did with the money after he had sold the ruby for twelve thousand dollars?" resumed frank. the reporter shook his head. "i can't guess," he said; "bought a farm?" "not much," chorused the boys, "he invested part of the money in a tug-boat and has been doing well with it in new york harbor. we met him when we were in new york a couple of days ago and partially outlined our plans to him. nothing would do but he must come along." "we couldn't have a better camp-mate," cried billy. "i agree with you," said frank. "so i told him we'd think it over." "well, is he to come?" demanded billy. "don't be so impatient," reproved frank. "listen to this. i got it this morning." he drew from his pocket a telegram and the boys all shouted with laughter as he read it aloud. it was characteristic of their old comrade. "have sold the tug and will be in white plains to-morrow. ben stubbs, (skipper retired)." "good for him," cried billy, as the three boys made their way back from the living quarters to the aerodrome, "he's a trump." "i don't know of anyone i would rather have along in an emergency and on such an expedition as this, his experience and resourcefulness will be invaluable to us," declared frank. the next morning frank and billy left the others busy at the aerodrome applying the waterproof compound to the _golden eagle ii's_ planes and started for town behind the venerable old steed that billy had christened "baalbec," because, he explained, "he was a remarkably fine ruin." the first train from new york pulled into the station just as they were driving into the town of white plains and a minute later the ears of both boys were saluted by a mighty hail of: "ahoy there, shipmates, lay alongside and throw us a line." the person from whom this unceremonious greeting proceeded was a short, sun-bronzed man of about fifty. he had an unusual air of confidence and ability and his mighty muscles fairly bulged under the tight-fitting, blue serge coat he wore. he carried an ancient looking carpet bag in which as he explained he had his "duds," meaning his garments. the greetings between the three were hearty and after frank had made a few purchases up-town and ben had laid in a good supply of strong tobacco they started for the aerodrome. as they drove down the street a thick-set man, with a furtive sallow face, came out of a store and as he did so saw the boys. with the agility of an eel he instantly slipped into a side street. but not so quickly that billy's sharp eyes had not spied him and recognized him. "bother that fellow," he said with some irritation, "he gets on my nerves. i wish to goodness he'd keep away from where i am." frank looked up. "what on earth are you talking about, billy?" he asked. "why that fellow we saw at the willard, and again on the congressional limited,--or his double,--just sneaked down a side street," said billy. "i am certain he saw us and was anxious for us not to observe him." "meeting him a third time like this could hardly be a coincidence," mused frank. "not much," struck in billy, "that fellow means some mischief." "i think myself that he will bear watching," replied frank, as they emerged from the street into the open country. "pretty good for a week's work, eh?" remarked harry with some pride as, after the joyous re-union with ben stubbs, they all stood regarding the air-skimmer which was growing like a living thing under their hands. they all agreed enthusiastically and frank even suggested that it might be possible, at the rate the work was progressing, to make the start in less time than he had at first thought feasible. "oh, by the way," said harry suddenly, "rather a funny thing happened while you were gone, frank!" "yes?" said the elder brother, "what was it?" "oh, nothing very exciting," replied harry, "nothing more than a visit we had from a tramp." "from a tramp?" asked frank wonderingly. "yes, he came here to look for a job," he said. "and you told him--?" "that we hadn't any work, of course, and then, apparently, he went away. but schultz, when he went over to the house for some tools he'd left there, found that instead of going very far the fellow was up in the wood back there and watching the place with a pair of field-glasses." "whew!" whistled frank with a long face, "a tramp with field-glasses?--that's a novelty." "i sent schultz up to tell the man that he was trespassing on private property," went on harry, "but as soon as he saw the old fellow coming the tramp made off. he, however, dropped this bit of paper." harry handed his brother a crumpled sheet marked with faint lines. frank scrutinized the paper carefully and a frown spread on his face. "this bit of paper, as you call it, harry," he said, "is nothing more nor less than a very creditable sketch map of the location of this aerodrome." "by jove, so it is," exclaimed harry, "how stupid of me not to have realized that. what does it all mean do you suppose?" "it means," replied frank, "that we will not leave the aerodrome unguarded for a minute day or night till we are ready to make our start for florida." chapter iv. a plot discovered. in accordance with frank's resolution the three young members of the party and ben stubbs divided the night into four watches which were religiously kept, but rather to frank's surprise nothing occurred to excite suspicion. the next morning le blanc, who had driven into town, returned shortly before noon with a letter from the secretary of war which contained information of much interest to every member of the projected expedition. "i have arranged with the department," it read in part, "to have the torpedo destroyer _tarantula_ detailed to duty along the florida coast and you can keep in touch with her by wireless. for this purpose, besides the apparatus attached to your air-ship, i have ordered a complete field outfit to be forwarded to you,--of the kind with which several western posts have been experimenting of late and which has proved entirely satisfactory. "the instrumental part of the outfit--i. e., the keys, detector, condenser, tuning-coil, etc., are permanently fastened into or carried in a steel-bound trunk, but little bigger than an ordinary steamer trunk, and weighing about one hundred and fifty pounds. two storage batteries, both sufficient for ten hours of continuous sending, accompany the outfit, and come in wooden cases which form supports for the trunk when the outfit is in use. "a mast of ten six-foot sections, which can be jointed together and set up in a few minutes, forms your aerial pole and each section is coppered so as to provide a continuous conductor. in another box are packed the aerial wires, extra rope, wire-pegs, etc., as well as a waterproof tent to protect the outfit from the weather. of course a charging station is a necessity and another case contains a small, but powerful gasolene motor and generator. another attachment for use with the appliance is a combination malay and box kite carrying a cord of phosphor bronze, wire-woven about a hemp center. there are eight hundred feet of this wire wound on a reel. if for any reason the work of setting up and attaching the pole and its aerials is considered to be too lengthy an occupation it is a simple matter to send up the kite, its wire rope acting as an aerial in itself." the boys grew enthusiastic over this description. the outfits seemed from the account to possess the merits of portability and efficiency and in the country into which they were going portability was a strong feature in itself. it was this very question that had caused frank, when designing the new _golden eagle_, to so construct her that she could be taken apart and the various sections boxed in a very small capacity each box weighing not more than fifty pounds with the exception of that containing the engine which weighed one hundred and fifty without the base. that afternoon the boys worked like trojans on the _golden eagle ii_ with the result that shortly before sundown they had progressed to a point where the air-ship was ready for the attachment of the engine. they were all surprised, and somewhat startled, when their solitude was invaded, just as they were thinking of knocking off work for the day, by a loud rap at the doors of the aerodrome. frank opened the small flap cut in the big door and stepped out to see who the intruder might be. he was greeted by a boy of about his own years smartly--too smartly--dressed, and with a confident overbearing manner. "why, hello, lathrop beasley," exclaimed frank, with all the cordiality he could muster at seeing who their visitor was,--and that was none too much, "what are you doing here?" "i guess you're surprised to see me," rejoined the other. "i certainly am," replied frank. "why don't you ask me to come in," went on the other, "you're a hospitable sort of fellow--not." "i beg your pardon, lathrop," apologized frank, "won't you come over to the house and sit down awhile?" an unpleasant sort of smile broke on the other's face. "oh, so you're afraid to let me see your aeroplane are you? well, i don't know that i care so much to anyway. since you fellows left new york i have been made president of the junior aero club and have designed a 'plane that can beat anything you ever saw into a cocked hat," he exclaimed. frank smiled. he was used to lathrop's boasting ways and at the agassiz high school which they had both attended had frequently seen the other humbled. now when lathrop said that he didn't care about seeing the _golden eagle ii_, of course he was not telling the truth. he would have given a great deal to have even caught a glimpse of her. in fact, when that morning he had heard that the boys' aerodrome was once more occupied, he had determined to walk over from his home, which was a splendid mansion standing on a hill-top not far away, and take a look at her for himself. that frank should have objected to showing him the craft was an obstacle that never entered his head. "oh, come, frank," he went on, changing his tone, "let me take a look at her, i won't tell anyone about it. what are you so secretive for?" "i myself should be glad to let you see the successor to the _golden eagle_ that we are building," replied frank, "but my employers might not like it." lathrop pricked up his ears at this. he was an ambitious boy and had designed several air-ships and planes but he had never been able to speak of his "employer." the word must mean that frank was building the craft for some rich man. although lathrop had plenty of it the idea that frank and harry were making money out of their enterprise roused him to a sullen sort of anger. "oh your employers mightn't like it," sneered lathrop, "i tell you what it is, frank, i don't believe you have any 'employers' as you call it, and that all this about a new air-ship is a bluff." this was a move intended to irritate frank and make him offer to show the air-ship as proof positive that he was really at work on such a craft, but if lathrop had meant it in this way it was a failure. frank was quite unruffled. "you are welcome to believe what you like, lathrop," he rejoined, "and now, as we are very busy, i shall have to ask you to excuse me. i've got too much work to do to stand talking here." "that's just like you, frank chester," burst out the other boy angrily, his temper quite gone now that he saw that there was to be no opportunity of his seeing the air-ship. "maybe you'll be sorry that you wouldn't show me the ship--and before very long too." as frank, not caring to listen to more of this sort of talk, re-entered the aerodrome the beasley boy, almost beside himself with anger, shouted after him. "i'll remember this, frank chester, so look out." he strode angrily off through the woods making a short cut for home. lathrop was not a bad boy at heart, but he was an intensely jealous one, and the idea that the boy aviators were constructing an air-ship that they refused to let him see irritated him almost past bearing. when he shouted at frank his last words they were dictated by his anger, more than by any real intention of carrying out any plan of revenge for the fancied slight; but, as he strode along through the woods, he suddenly heard voices that, after a few minutes of listening, convinced him that he was not the only person in the world who even momentarily wished harm to the chester boys. "we'll wreck the aerodrome to-night;" were the words,--coming from within a clump of bushes that grew to one side of the trail,--that attracted his attention. the boy halted in his tracks as they were uttered and then crept cautiously through the undergrowth till he reached a spot from which he could both see and hear without being seen. the man who had uttered the threat that had brought him to a standstill was a person bearing every evidence of being of the genus--tramp, that is so far as his clothes went. but his white hands and carefully kept nails showed that he had assumed the rags he wore as a disguise. his companion was a man of very different appearance. he was in fact the natty person whom the boys had seen at the hotel willard, and who had since been on their track, as frank had guessed when billy had spied his escaping figure in white plains the day before. with a beating heart the concealed boy listened as the two plotters went on. [illustration: lathrop discovers the plot.] "do you think they have the machine finished yet?" asked the better dressed of the two. "confound them, they were too sharp to let me go to work for them or i might have had the plans of it by this time," rejoined the other. "i think, though," he resumed, "that it must be so far advanced that if we can wreck it now we will delay their departure for florida till we have been able to destroy the plant and escape." "i owe them a debt of gratitude for the loud way they talked at the hotel willard," said the other. "thank goodness we are now in possession of their plans at any event. don't you think we might head them off without destroying the aerodrome? it's risky, and means jail for us if we are caught." the other gave a short laugh. "no, we'll hit them a body blow," he said. "if i could blow them up along with their air-ship i'd gladly do it. i'd like to treat them as we mean to do with that white-livered lieutenant when we get through with his services." "are they going to kill him?" demanded the other with something like awe in his tones. "no," replied the man in the tramp's rags, "not unless he gives too much trouble. they are going to put him to work in the sulphur mines of ojahyama and let him slave for his living." even from where he was the concealed boy could see the other shudder. "it is a terrible place," he said. "it is the best place for men of his caliber," retorted the other. "perhaps it would be as happy a fate for him as being compelled to slave for foyashi." "i hear that he would not have anything to do with their schemes and defied them to kill him before he would aid them to manufacture his explosive until he was influenced by foyashi," said the first speaker. "i guess you're right," replied the other worthy, "but he's passive enough now, i fancy." they both laughed and arose to go. as for lathrop he lay almost paralyzed with fear. of course much of what he had heard had been meaningless to him, but he did understand that a plan was on foot to blow up the boys' aerodrome, destroy their ship and possibly injure themselves. as the men's footsteps died out, as they walked off down the path through the woods, the boy, who a minute before had been seriously pondering some sort of harm to frank and harry felt conscience-stricken. what he had just heard had changed him from a possible enemy into a fellow-schoolmate and he determined to warn the boys of their peril. with this end in view he was hurrying down the path, retracing his steps towards the aerodrome, when he was seized roughly from behind and whirled about. the man who had seized him was the one who had assumed the costume of a tramp. his eyes blazed with rage. he had hurried back to get his knife,--which had dropped from his pocket as he sat talking,--a few seconds after lathrop had left his place of concealment. as luck would have it, in pushing through the bushes he had discovered the depression in the grass where the boy had lain. a brief investigation showed him that it had been recently occupied and that whoever had crouched there must have heard every word they said. calling his comrade the two had set out at full speed in pursuit of lathrop. as his captor gripped the boy in a hold that clutched like a vice, lathrop realized that he had fallen into bad hands. chapter v. two rascals get a shock. the boy was startled but his presence of mind did not desert him. lathrop, although, as has been said, a hectoring, dictatorial sort of youth possessed plenty of courage of a certain kind, and was no coward. he therefore exclaimed angrily: "take your hand off me. what do you want?" at the same moment he gave an adroit twist, an old football trick, and in a shake had freed himself from the other's detaining hand. "you needn't crow quite so loudly, my young rooster," exclaimed the man in the tramp's dress, "i merely wanted to ask you a few questions." "well," demanded the boy. "what were you doing up there in the woods while we were talking?" lathrop didn't know whether or not the men were armed, so that he decided that it would be folly to tell them the facts; he therefore took refuge in strategy. "what do you mean?" he asked with an expression of blank amazement. "oh, come," said the other, but there was a note of indecision in his tones, that showed that he was not as sure of his ground as he had been, "you don't mean to say that you weren't lying hidden while we were talking up yonder and heard every word?" "as i told you," replied lathrop, "i don't know what you are talking about. i am on my way home through these woods and you have stopped me in this unceremonious fashion. if there was a constable within call i would have you arrested." "oh, come on, bill," struck in the nattily dressed one of the pair, who had hitherto remained silent, "the kid doesn't know anything--that's evident, and we are wasting time here." "i'm not sure of that," retorted the tramp-like man, still unconvinced, "if i thought," he added with a vicious leer, "that he overheard us, i----" the sentence was not completed for the reason that at the moment a lusty voice was heard coming up the path from the aerodrome singing at the pitch of its lungs: "three times round went the gallant ship; three times round spun she, three times round spun the gallant ship then down to the bottom of the sea,--the sea,--the sea. then down to the bottom of the sea." as the singer came upon the scene in front of him he broke off abruptly and the two men who had intercepted lathrop took to their heels. "hullo, there, my hearty," cried ben stubbs, for he was the vocalist, as his eyes took in the situation, "what's all this?" his voice held a sharp note of interrogation, for he had immediately recognized one of the two men who had made off as the fellow who had sneaked up the by-street in white plains the day before. "who are you?" demanded the boy suspiciously, not certain whether in the newcomer he had a friend or a fresh source of danger. "me? oh, i'm ben stubbs, formerly skipper of the tug mary and ann, but now one of the crew of the _golden eagle ii_, sky clipper. and you, my young middy, i recognize as the chap who was down at the aerodrome a short while ago, and got all het up because frank chester wouldn't let you see the air-ship--now the question is what were you doing with those two fellows, who are as bad a looking pair of cruisers as i ever laid eyes on?" lathrop saw at once that unless he told the truth he would be a fair object of suspicion, and at any rate he had made up his mind to warn the boys of the danger that threatened. he therefore in a straight-forward way told of the afternoon's happenings. "you come along with me," exclaimed ben, as the boy finished his narrative, "we've got no time to lose." they hurried down the path to the aerodrome and lathrop repeated his story to the boys. "well, forewarned is forearmed," remarked frank, "and thank you, lathrop, for doing the square thing." "oh, that's all right, frank," lathrop replied awkwardly, recollecting his fiery threats of a short time before. to tell the truth, lathrop was thoroughly ashamed of himself, and declining the boys' hearty invitation to supper, hurried home to the house on the hill. he had learned a lesson he never forgot. "now," said frank, as soon as he had gone, "we'll give these fellows a surprise if they come around here to-night that will stick in their minds for a good many years." under his directions everyone got busy for the rest of the afternoon driving wooden posts at six foot intervals all round the aerodrome. when the posts were all in position a copper wire of medium thickness was strung from one post top to another and the ends connected with the dynamo ultimately destined to supply the _golden eagle ii's_ searchlight and wireless equipment. by the time ben stubbs, who had quite ousted le blanc as cook, announced by a clarion summons, beaten on a tin wash-pan, with a big ladle, that a supper, consisting of his famous baked beans, chops, spinach and coffee was ready--not to forget ben's masterpiece, a huge strawberry pie,--frank pronounced his preparations also complete. after supper everybody sat around the stove in the portable house, for the nights were still chilly, till about ten o'clock. they had all made as much noise as possible early in the evening with the ultimate motive of accentuating the quietness later on. frank and harry stood at the door of the portable house as schultz and le blanc started for the aerodrome and shouted out "good-night" till the echoes rang back from the hills. then one by one the lights in the two houses went out and all was quiet. that is, all seemed so to two watchers concealed in a thick mass of brush up on the hill, but in reality no sooner had the houses been plunged in darkness than the boys and ben stubbs had crept quietly into the aerodrome and sat down to wait for the crisis they felt sure was coming. harry and billy each carried a long thin package that might have contained anything from dynamite to a pistol. ben stubbs, with a grim expression on his rugged face, grasped a stout club he had cut that afternoon. it was pitchy dark in the aerodrome and as they waited, in the absolute silence frank had enjoined, the watchers could hear one another breathing. upstairs only the rhythmic snores of schultz and le blanc, who were not in the secret, disturbed the silence. frank sat with his hand on the switch that would shoot a current of 500 volts through the copper wires surrounding the aerodrome when he connected it. a hole, bored earlier in the afternoon in the wooden wall of the aerodrome gave the boy a command of the view outside in the direction of the woods. so dark was it, however, that even his keen eyes could detect little in the black murk. he saw they would have to judge of their enemies' whereabouts solely by sound. they must have sat there in the darkness for an hour or more, with no sound being borne to their ears but the unmelodious snoring of the two mechanics in the loft when, suddenly, and without any further warning there came a sharp "crack" from up on the hillside as a branch snapped under a heavy foot. "here they come," whispered frank to the boys, whom he knew were there; but couldn't see any more than if they were in the antipodes. "get outside now, you fellows, and when i give the word, let go!" silently as cats billy barnes, harry and ben stubbs slipped off their shoes and tiptoed out through the door of the aerodrome, which had been left open to allow for the noiseless exit. frank was left alone in the barn-like aerodrome save for the two sleepers upstairs. the tension in the silence grew painful. when would the persons who had crackled the broken branch on the hillside recover their courage enough to make a further advance? all at once, close at hand, frank heard a loud whisper of: "well, they are all asleep, evidently." "yes," replied another hoarse whisper, "that kid you suspected evidently didn't hear anything." "confound it, it's dark as a pit," came from the first speaker. "it might be lighter," replied the other, "but the blacker it is the better for us." "hark at those fellows snoring," was the next thing frank heard. the remark was accompanied by a smothered laugh. "yes, they are sound asleep as run-down tops," was the reply. frank inwardly blessed the stalwart lungs of schultz and le blanc. all unconsciously the sleepers were helping on their plans. "do you think that's the boys snoring?" asked one of the two men who were cautiously creeping nearer to the aerodrome. "i hope so," was the response, "i'd like to see them go skywards with their infernal air-ship." "scudder will have reason to thank us for a good night's work," was the next remark of the prowlers. there was silence for a few seconds and then a jangling sound. one of the men who had the destruction of the _golden eagle ii_ at heart had collided with frank's wire fence. "confound it, what's that?" angrily hissed his companion. "a wire fence," replied the other. "well, it will take more than that to stop us," was the angry answer, "come on, grab the top wire and over we go." "now!" shouted frank, as he threw in the switch and 500 volts coursed through the copper wire both men were grasping. at the same instant billy and harry outside pressed the electric buttons that ignited the coston navy signal lights they both carried and the whole scene was illuminated in a white glare as light as noonday. and what a scene it was! on the ground by the fence sprawled the marauders yelling till the air rang with their cries of mingled pain and amazement at the surprise of the powerful shock that had knocked them off their feet. above them stood the stout figure of ben stubbs belaboring them impartially with the heavy club he had cut for that special purpose. "take that, you lubbers, you longshore loafers!" he shouted as his blows fell with the rapidity of a drumstick on the two prostrate carcasses. the two men, however, had laid their plans better than the boys knew. they were prepared for a surprise, but not one of the kind they had run into. without a second's warning there was a sudden flash from the hill behind them, followed by a sharp report. ben stubbs threw up his hands and rolled over with a yell more of surprise than of anything else. "put out those lights!" shouted frank, realizing that in the white glare the group outside presented fine targets for the hidden marksman on the hill, whoever he might be. the boys instantly shoved their glaring torch tips into the ground. even as they did so they could hear rapidly retreating footsteps. "don't let them get away," shouted harry wildly. frank, who by this time had switched off the current, and was outside, seized him with a detaining grasp. "no good, harry," he exclaimed. "it would be taking needless chances. now, let's look to ben." "only a hen-peck," hailed that redoubtable ex-mariner, coming up, "just nicked my starboard ear, but i thought for a minute they had done me." "that was no fault of theirs," answered billy, "they----" he was interrupted by a series of guttural shouts and piercing shrieks. "ach himmel--donnerblitzen vass iss----!" "sacre nom de nom! qu'est-ce que cela! to the aid. monsieur chest-e-erre!" the cries came from the aerodrome and were uttered by the awakened schultz and le blanc, the latter of whom was almost in hysterics. frank laughingly quieted them and explained what had happened. "ve vos only eggcited on your aggount," remarked schultz bravely when he learned that all danger was over. "comment, vee fight lek ze tiger-r-r n' c'est pas?" demanded le blanc, flourishing a pillow fiercely. "a pitee i deed not see zee ras-cals." chapter vi. the start for the 'glades. the incident related in the last chapter determined frank to abandon his half-arrived at intention to enter the everglades from the atlantic side. the appearance of the dark man in washington--he was now certain their plans had been overheard--the episode of the tramp and the attempt to blow up the aerodrome all combined to convince him that his original scheme of invasion of the little known wastes of southern florida was as an open book to the men who had only too evidently their destruction at heart. a hasty trip to washington resulted, and a consultation with the secretary of the navy. the result was that arrangements were made whereby the boys' expedition was to gather at miami as openly as possible, and then under cover of night run down biscayne bay and eventually double cape sable by the inland passage. then they were to beat up through the ten thousand island archipelago to the mouth of either shark or harney river and thence into the trackless wastes of unmapped swamp and saw-grass known as the everglades. the _tarantula_ was to cruise off and on around the coast and in case of dire need was to be signaled by wireless. these details completed, frank and harry returned to new york and a week later, the _golden eagle ii_ being completed, and loaded in small cases marked "glass, fragile," and other misleading labels, the boy aviators bade farewell to their mother and friends and started by the southern limited for miami. with them they carried in ordinary trunks their mess and camp kit outfits, rifles and medical supplies as well as two of the government's field wireless outfits. the rest of the party was to follow a week later in a private car with all the other baggage, including the boxed sections of the _golden eagle ii_. the canoes and boats for the trips were to be purchased at miami or along the coast in the vicinity, as the boys deemed fit. in the meantime the _tarantula_ had been dispatched from hampton roads for southern waters under sealed orders. not till her commander opened his instructions at sea did he know the real nature of his errand. at this point it may not be amiss to give a brief description of the little known country to which the boys were bound. everyone has heard of the everglades, few have any accurate idea of them beyond a sort of hazy conception of a vast tract of morass, overgrown with giant forests and rank growth of all kinds. nothing could be further from the truth. it is without doubt the peculiar, even extraordinary, character of this great stretch of country that has caused its geography to remain obscure. even recent maps are extremely inaccurate. it seems remarkable in these days of african and polar discovery that here in our own country is a vast waste, 130 miles long and 70 wide, that is as little known to the white man as the heart of the sahara. the everglades are bounded on the north by lake okeechobee, on the east by a belt of scrub pine-land about six miles wide facing the atlantic, on the south by the great mangrove swamps facing the bay of florida and the gulf of mexico, and on the west by the big cypress swamp which runs right up to the uninhabited region verging on the west coast of the peninsula. the prevailing idea that the everglades are unhealthy is about as far as it is possible to get from the truth. so far as the few expeditions that have penetrated the great mystery have reported, the water is fine and the air healthful. the saw-grass, the seminoles and the snakes--rattlers and cotton-mouth moccasins--are the worst enemies the explorer ordinarily encounters, with an occasional panther. over the watery wastes of the everglades which are not tree grown, but on the contrary great expanses of saw-grass grown prairie, the seminole poles his cypress dug-out defying the government which wishes to place him on a reservation but has no means of "smoking him out" of the impassable wilds he has chosen for his refuge. the seminoles also haunt the big cypress swamp and observe numerous tribal rites and legends of which we know little. they are dignified, trustworthy people--but the bad treatment they have received from the government has made them the implacable foe of the white man for whom their word is the same as "liar"--such has been their impression of civilization. the boys had familiarized themselves with the nature of the country by a close study of all the available works on the subject--which were not many. the government had placed the latest maps and charts of the region at their disposal. even these, however, showed them little. in fact the parting words of the secretary of the navy to them were: "boys, you'll have to blaze your own trail." of course in selecting an equipment for such a region the boys had made lightness the prime essential. they knew that on much of the journey in search for a spot for a permanent camp they would have to pole over shoal water, in some places not more than two feet deep. an overloaded canoe might therefore cause a lot of trouble and delay. like true old campaigners they had prepared elaborate lists and then gone through them again and again till nothing appeared on them but the barest necessities. ben stubbs had put in several days making a number of light but strong chests twenty-two inches by thirteen and nine inches deep. these contained, among other necessities, an aluminum cooking outfit weighing nine pounds. there were two pots, a frying pan and four plates nesting into each other. and then there was a coffee pot in which was stowed away four cups (nested) pepper and salt castors, knives, spoons and forks, the frying-pan and coffee-pot had detachable handles for lifting on and off the campfire with ease and comfort, no matter how the wind might be blowing the flames about. the grocery chest contained flour, sugar, salt, cornmeal, pepper, sliced bacon, beef extracts, soup-tablets (three varieties), root-beer, lemonade and sarsaparilla tablets, oatmeal and evaporated fruits of various kinds. these were all put in glass jars with screw tops and rubber gaskets so that even in case of an upset the contents would remain dry. there was also a blue-flame double burner kerosene stove of the marine type, lanterns, and a supply of candles and matches in waterproof jars. the medical outfit consisted of some antiseptics, pills, several tablets of permanganate of potassium for the same purpose and a hypodermic outfit, bandages and lotions. each boy carried an automatic rifle for big game or defense, the kind chosen being a weapon carrying .49-50 nickeled steel cartridges. this gun was heavy enough for alligators; or the more savage crocodile, pumas, leopards, gray wolves or any human enemy. they also purchased two three-barreled guns having two parallel barrels, twelve gauge, for shotted shells, and another rifled barrel underneath of .35-55 caliber. two 16-gauge shot-guns for duck and small game were also stowed away in the "armory" chest. in addition each boy had his magazine revolver of .38 caliber, and a six-inch bladed hunting-knife with a heavy back so that it might even be used for chopping. shovels, axes, picks, etc., were back with the heavy baggage to be brought on by ben stubbs and billy. frank, of course, carried his nautical instruments. a sextant, a compass, two tested watches of the finest split-second make and an artificial horizon. their clothes were stout hunting boots, khaki trousers and norfolk jackets of the same material and flannel shirts with campaign hats. each carried a change of underwear and socks in his toilet bag which also held two towels, toothbrush, cake of soap and brush and comb. for transportation into the everglades the boys soon managed with little difficulty to secure canoes and a lighter draught "cruiser," similar to a barnegat duck-boat. the flotilla was to be taken down the coast by an auxiliary sloop also chartered at miami. on the appointed day the boys were at the railroad station of the florida east coast railroad to meet the arrivals from new york, and warm were the greetings as billy barnes and stubbs stepped from the private car which had been attached for them when they left the north. the car was sidetracked at miami and the train kept on its way to key west along the wonderful chain of cement bridges constructed over the numberless keys that run out from the "leg" of florida. the boys and ben were busily engaged getting the various bales and crates in some sort of order for transfer to the trucks by which they were to be taken to the flotilla of canoes when they were startled at being hailed by a voice that sounded familiar. the boys hastened to the door of one end of the car and were amazed to see standing on the steps, looking rather embarrassed and doubtful, lathrop beasley. he wore a well cut suit of white serge and a straw hat with a light blue ribbon. in addition he sported snowy canvas shoes, topped off with light purple socks and a pale pink tie. altogether he looked as if he had just stepped from a clothing ad. even in their astonishment at seeing him there the boys could not help laughing at the contrast they presented to him. in their rough working garb, and all begrimed with dust as they were from handling the kit in the car, two more unpresentable youths from a sartorial standpoint, could not well be imagined. the three boys gazed at each other in silence for a few seconds and then lathrop said rather shamefacedly: "hello, fellows." "well, lathrop, what on earth are you doing here?" naturally demanded frank. "i guess i came on a wild impulse," began lathrop, and then stopped. "well?" questioned harry. "when i heard of your trip, from hanging around the aerodrome after you left--oh, it wasn't ben stubbs or barnes that told me, they were close as clams,"--he hurried on, "but when old schultz told me that you were going to cross the everglades i thought that maybe you'd need an extra hand so i got permission from my folks and here i am. "if you want to say the word i'll go back," he concluded rather lamely but with a longing look in his face that told of his eager desire to be allowed to join the expedition. "well, you certainly have an impetuous way of doing things," commented frank. "did you come on this train?" "yes," replied the boy. "i've just been up to the hotel and engaged rooms and tidied up a bit and then hurried right down here." frank and harry exchanged glances of amusement, the cause of which lathrop was at a loss to fathom. "well," began frank, after a brief whispered conversation with his brother, "you are here now and i suppose you'll have to stay. we can find some work i dare say for you to do and there are a lot of ways you can be useful." "i'll start right in at anything you tell me," began the boy eagerly. "it's mighty good of you----" "not much you won't. not in that fancy rig," burst out harry, "if you are coming with us you'd better go up to the village store and get an outfit as much like ours as possible and forget you ever patronized a tailor." lathrop gladly agreed and hurried off to get himself a working outfit. as he hastened down the tracks, frank turned to harry with a grin. "well, we have gone and done it now," he said. "but we really have use for another hand, and i think that we can make something out of lathrop, besides we owe him a debt of gratitude for helping us out at white plains. if it hadn't been for him we might have lost the _golden eagle ii_ and all our work." "that's so," assented harry. "i guess he will work out all right. but those fancy duds he had on----" and the boy burst out laughing at the recollection. by sundown most of the "duffle" in the car had been transferred to trucks and carted down to the wharf, where the boys, with considerable pride, exhibited to ben stubbs, billy, and the newly overalled lathrop, the light draught thirty-foot sloop, with an auxiliary five-horse engine, the four canoes and the light draught "sneak-box," they had secured for their transportation round the cape and into the thousand island archipelago. the canoes were of the "ontario" type, fitted with narrow decks round the edges and canvas covered. the sneak-box was of the spoon-bowed variety familiar to duckers in barnegat bay. it drew only a few inches of water and afforded a lot of space in its sixteen feet of length for the stowage of the heavier baggage. it rejoiced in the name of _squeegee_. ben stubbs was delighted with the "fleet" as he called it, and declared that the sloop was a "witch." after a dinner at the quiet boarding house at which the boys had been stopping the adventurers that night finished the stowage of their impedimenta aboard the sloop and piled the canoes on the top of the canvas enclosed "summer cabin." the "sneak-box" was towed astern. the owner of the sloop, a coal-black negro called pork chops--the boys could never discover that he had any other name--was to take them round the cape as far as the thousand island archipelago where they were to be left. from there on their course would lie up the shark river into the heart of the little known everglades. of course the wharf loungers were full of curiosity as the work of transferring the boys' belongings and outfit to the sloop proceeded, but frank and harry had allowed it to become widely circulated that they were a hunting party bound for some of the keys to the east of cape sable, and "pork chops" also was of this belief, so that the boys were pretty sure that none but the members of their own immediate party knew of the real goal of their journey. by midnight everything was in readiness and the tide served for start. with her big mainsail flapping lazily in the breath of wind that was stirring pork chops' sloop, which held the poetic name of _carrier dove_ dropped down biscayne bay with her "kicker" going and dawn found her well on her journey south with a spanking breeze out of the northeast to fill her canvas. as she skimmed along over the sparkling blue of the tropical waters in whose crystalline depths hosts of fish of all kinds could be easily seen and on the surface of which floated great masses of yellow gulf weed, the boys rejoiced that their momentous expedition had started so auspiciously. as for lathrop he acted like a boy out of his head with joy at his unexpected good fortune. ben stubbs and the inky pork chops relieved each other at the wheel, and frank and harry, at the table in the stuffy little cabin, worked at plans and lists trying to devise ways of still further cutting down their outfit without impairing its usefulness. billy barnes, with a knowing air, scrutinized the sails and from time to time admonished ben stubbs to "keep her up a bit," to which suggestion ben with an air of ineffable contempt replied: "i never knowed they taught navigation on a newspaper but it's a good school for nerve." chapter vii. a night attack. most of that day they dropped leisurely down hawk channel and at night anchored off a small key covered with a luxuriant tropical growth and topped by the feathery crowns of a group of stately royal palms. it was early afternoon when they let go the anchor and the boys lost no time in getting into the squeegee and rowing ashore. they carried with them the _carrier dove's_ water keg which held ten gallons and which had been discovered by them to be half empty the first time they went forward for a drink. what water there was in it was so stale as to be almost undrinkable. pork chops was summarily sent for and arraigned on the "quarter deck." "i done declar i clean forgit all about deh watah," he gasped, as frank read him a lecture on his carelessness. indeed everything about the _carrier dove_ bore witness to pork chops' shiftless ways. her rigging was spliced in innumerable places and her halyards badly frayed so that they wedged in the blocks sometimes. her paint was peeled off her sides in large flakes and altogether she was quite as disreputable a proposition as her owner; but in her, pork chops had navigated the waters about miami for many years and was accounted a skilful mariner. the boys uttered a cry of delight as the squeegee's nose grated on a beach of white sand and they sprang out. the key was a veritable fairyland. lime, lemon and guava trees grew almost down to the water's edge and further back were several wild banana plants with their yellow fruit hanging temptingly for the boys to pluck. and pluck it they did and declared they had never known what real bananas were like before,--which is hardly surprising as the fruit is picked for the northern market long before it is ripe and shipped in a green state. after they had fairly gorged themselves on fruit, they set out to look for a spring. they were not long in finding it and billy barnes, dipper in hand, started in to fill the keg. he had ladled out a few dipperfuls when he started back with a yell. the others, who had been roaming about in the vicinity, hurried back and found the reporter gazing petrified at a huge cotton mouth moccassin. frank, who had one of the sixteen gauge guns with him, quickly despatched the creature, which was about three feet long. "ugh, what a monster," exclaimed lathrop, as he gazed at the ugly, dirty-brown colored body. "he is a pretty sizeable reptile and that's a fact," remarked frank, "but what would you say to a serpent twenty feet long?" the others looked at him incredulously. "twenty feet long--oh come, frank," laughed billy. "that sounds like the fish that got away." "lieutenant willoughby, who explored the everglades in 1897, reports that he heard from indians and believed himself that in the southern portions of the everglades there are snakes bigger than any known species," replied frank, "his guide killed a reptile marked with longitudinal stripes,--but otherwise like a rattlesnake,--which measured nine feet from tip to tip." "well, i don't want to be around when any such creatures as that are about," said lathrop. "i'm with you there," cried billy, "snake stories are all right in print but i don't want to figure in any of them." "come on, boys,--volunteers to get supper," cried frank, after the group had strolled back to the boat landing,--all hands taking turn at packing the water keg. "supper?" cried the others. "yes," replied frank, "we can row the keg off to the _carrier dove_, get some duffle ashore and camp here in the jungle for a night. there's no use trying to navigate this coast in the dark. who says--yes?" of course they all did,--hailing his suggestion with acclamation,--and, after frank and harry had rowed off to the sloop, lathrop and billy barnes set about getting in a supply of firewood and laying a fire between two green logs set parallel, in a manner that did credit to bill's training as a woodsman in nicaragua. frank and harry were too tender-hearted to resist ben stubbs' pleadings to be made one of the party--moreover he promised to cook them what he called a bush supper if allowed to come ashore, so that when the boys shoved off in the placid water on their return trip to the island ben made one of the squeegee's load. as soon as they got ashore ben approvingly commended billy's camp-fire arrangements, at which the reporter glowed with pleasure. somehow in the wilderness a small tribute to a boy's handiness will send him into the seventh heaven of gratified pride. under ben stubbs' orders the party had soon secured several bunches of oysters from the mangroves,--which were laden with the bivalves where they dipped into the water at low tide,--as well as half a dozen turtles, small fellows which ben declared made as good eating as the terrapin of the northern restaurant and banquet. to crown the feast, frank, who had been scouting about with one of the shot-guns, brought down a couple of small ducks. the oysters ben roasted in their shells, laying them when finished on plantain leaves on previously heated rocks. the turtles he prepared by scalding them and then, after cutting down the center of the lower shell, the meat was easily got at. salted and peppered inside and out and the meat removed from the shell after a half-an-hour's boiling with onions and the young campers had a meal fit for a president, who, as billy observed, "is a heap more particular than a king." the ducks were incased by ben in a sort of matrix of clay--feathers and all,--having first been cleaned. thus enclosed they were placed in the glowing embers and more hot coals raked over on top of them. when in half an hour ben drew out the hard-baked clay casings and cracked them free with a hatchet,--which automatically skinned the birds and plucked them at the same time,--the boys were ready to acclaim him a very prince of chefs. the meal was eaten with pilot bread and washed down with lemonade made from spring water and lemonade tablets. for dessert they had bananas and wild oranges. many times after that when they were plunged in hardships and difficulties the boys talked over that first meal on the lone florida key. after supper there was no washing up to do; big plantain leaves having served as plates and hunting-knives as table utensils. the little party sat round the big camp-fire and sang songs and talked and laughed till pork chops out on the _carrier dove_ muttered to himself as he tried to sleep. "dem white boys done bein' as clean crazy as loons,--yas, sah." however, at last even the boys' spirits began to flag and they tucked themselves up in their blankets and lulled by the croaking and snoring of a big tree lizard in a near-by custard apple-tree, sank into dreams which were more or less tinctured by the happenings of the last few days. frank, more wakeful than the others, lay awake perhaps half an hour after ben stubbs' nasal performances had begun to rival those of the tree-lizard; who was himself no mean performer. the boy-leader's brain was busy turning over their momentous expedition. in a few days now they would be in the archipelago and the plunge into the unknown would have to be taken. as he gazed about him at the sleeping party--harry and billy, light and careless, lathrop, apparently made of far better metal than frank had believed, and at old grizzled ben stubbs sleeping, like most woodsmen, as soundly as an infant, he felt a sensation of heavy responsibility steal over him. was the expedition well advised? it might all end in nothing or even in disaster. these thoughts flitted through frank's brain as he lay awake and pondered the situation. of one thing he was determined, as soon as the wireless could be put in operation and a permanent camp established in the 'glades he would establish communication with the _tarantula_. that at least would put them in touch with powerful allies whatever foes and evil influences they might encounter in the great fastnesses they were about to penetrate. satisfied with this last resolve frank fell asleep; but his was a troubled slumber. it seemed to him but a few minutes after he had dropped off that he awakened with a start: the fire had died low and there was only a dull red glow to indicate where its cheerful blaze had been. as his eyes opened, however, frank had a queer sensation that his awakening had been directly caused by some outside action that had affected him. in a second he sensed what it was. there was a hand poking about under his pillow where he had tucked his revolver! at the same instant there came a loud agonized hail from over the moonlit water where the _carrier dove_ swung at anchor. it was pork chops' voice, and frank sprang to his feet as he heard it, reckless of injury from the unseen intruder. he need not have been under any apprehension, however, for whoever the prowler was he had vanished. at the same moment pork chops' yells awakened the others and ben stubbs roared out with stentorian lungs: "ahoy, there aboard the sloop--what's up?" for reply came a wail from pork chops, which was stifled as suddenly as if a hand had been placed on his throat: "help! murder! dey's----" then all was silent. like a flash the boys and ben piled into the squeegee and ben manned the oars. as they fairly flew over the water under his powerful strokes a long, low dark body,--almost reptilian in its swift movement,--glided from the opposite side of the _carrier dove_. at the same instant the sharp staccato sound of an engine exhaust came to the boys' ears and a strong odor of gasolene. "a motor-boat," shouted frank, as the low body, gathering speed momentarily, tore off across the moonlit water and vanished in the dark shadows off the end of the island. chapter viii. the men of the island. once on board the _carrier dove_ the mystery was deepened. there was not a trace of pork chops, though his blankets lay apparently just as they had been thrown aside when he leaped up at the invasion of the motor-boat intruders. frank lit a lantern and naturally the first thing the boys hastened to investigate was whether any harm had come to the cases containing the frame of _the golden eagle ii_. to their unspeakable relief everything was intact, nor did any of the boxes show traces of having been tampered with. "the whole thing seems inexplicable," mused harry. "not at all," replied frank, "i suppose that they figured we were asleep ashore and sneaked up in their motor-boat to rifle our possessions." "yes, but why did they carry off pork chops?" protested billy; "for unless they threw him overboard, they must have taken him,--unless he's been carried off by mosquitoes." "they would naturally have carried him off as i figure it," rejoined frank, "not wishing to have him meet us and describe the appearance of our visitors." "that sounds good horse sense," put in ben stubbs. "and in my opinion them chaps in the motor-boat was the same limpets as stuck around the aerodrome in white plains," he continued sagely. "i don't think there's much doubt of that, ben," replied frank, "the thing is how did they get here?" "wall, the rate we've been coming it would have been mighty easy for them in a light draught motor-boat to have kept track of us from near inshore if they had a good glass," rejoined ben. "but how did they trace us to miami?" puzzled harry. "easy enough," replied billy, "i've done it dozens of times--traced people i mean. i guess they just looked up the baggage man and found where our stuff was checked to." "of course i ought to have guessed that," exclaimed frank. "it's really too mortifying," he concluded in a vexed tone. "consarn 'em," muttered ben, embracing his rifle longingly, "i'd like to get 'em quartered off this sight. i'd drop a precious bad pair of birds in a couple of shots." "no use thinking of that now," rejoined frank, briskly shaking off his annoyance over what couldn't be helped, "the thing to do at present is to finish our night's sleep and set a watch. we don't want those fellows coming back and blowing the boat up." it was agreed that ben stubbs was to sit up and take the watch, and that hardy veteran himself had no small share in influencing the verdict. he felt that he as the oldest of the party and the more experienced should have the responsibility in case real trouble was to come. the boys were not long, even after the exciting interruption to their slumbers, in sinking to sleep again on the transoms in the summer cabin of the _carrier dove_. as for ben he sat up on the after deck with his rifle between his knees till the moon went down and the stars began to wane. and all the time he never took his eyes off the shore where the dying camp-fire still spread a reddish glow against the blackness of the thick jungle tangle. he might have been watching an hour when he gave a sudden start. "well that's queer too," he remarked to himself, as he fixed his eyes with stern intensity on the little glow of light thrown out by the embers. a dark figure had cautiously crossed the illumination, standing silhouetted for a moment against it. suddenly a loud "hoo-hoo" like the hoot of an owl sounded from the shore. the same moment in the old adventurer's reckless heart was borne a resolve which bore fruit when at dawn, as the rim of a glorious sun poked itself over the sparkling blue expanse of waters, and showed them vacant, he drew in the squeegee's painter and slipped lightly into her. he sculled ashore and approaching the camp crouched almost on his hands and knees. he examined the ground closely for a few minutes, as if in keen search of something. after a few minutes of this concentrated scrutiny he suddenly straightened up and strode off unhesitatingly into the jungle. but as he parted the creepers before him he gripped his rifle in the crotch of his arm with his finger on the trigger. he was not going to be taken by surprise. the green mystery of the forest had not long closed on ben's stalwart form when the boys awoke as the sunlight streamed through the canvas-curtains of the _carrier's dove's_ "main saloon". rubbing their eyes sleepily they hastened out on deck. for a few seconds the glory of the tropic dawn engrossed their attention to the exclusion of all else. then with a cry of alarm lathrop shouted: "the squeegee's gone!" "gone?" echoed the others. for answer lathrop pointed to the stern. it was true, no squeegee swung there at her painter. it was only a fraction of time before the absence of ben stubbs was also discovered. for a minute a dark thought crossed frank's mind,--but he dismissed it as unworthy, and was glad he did, for suddenly billy shouted: "why, there's the squeegee ashore." they all looked and there, sure enough, lay their sneak-box where ben, a short time before, had deserted her. "he must have gone ashore hunting," cried harry. frank shook his head. "he had some graver reason than that for going," he said. "well, let's swim ashore and find out what has become of him," cried lathrop, and indeed the turquoise water into whose depths one could see, did look tempting enough for an early morning plunge. "it would be our last swim, lathrop," remarked frank, pointing as he spoke to a wicked-looking triangular black fin that cruised by. "see that leg o' mutton?" he continued, "well, that's hitched onto the back of a man-eating shark and they don't encourage early morning bathing except for their larder's benefit." as he spoke the monster glided close to the side of the _carrier dove_, perhaps in search of ship scraps, for which sharks will sometimes follow ships for days to satisfy their insatiable appetites. with an ill-concealed shudder lathrop watched the great shadowy body flit by the sloop's side, with a wicked little pig-like eye cocked knowingly up, as much as to say: "any breakfast ready yet?" "i like those fellows less than the snakes," exclaimed lathrop. when the laugh at his expense had subsided frank suggested that they get into canoes at once and go ashore to discover what had become of ben. the proposal was greeted as a good one and in short time the light craft were overboard and the boys paddling with all their might for the shore. lathrop kept his eyes steadily ahead all the way, nor did he once look at the transparent water about them which, as the sun got higher, began to swarm with black fins and queer ill-shaped monsters of the deep,--jew-fish, rays, and huge sun-fish,--which seen through the water looked like so many ill-shaped dragons. on shore the boys hastened at once to their camp-fire of the night before. its ashes were strewn abroad but in the gray dust, frank, with an exclamation of surprise, made out the numerous indentations of a queer-shaped flat foot--it was the same mark that had made ben set off through the jungle. but the boys, less expert than he, could not track their way by looking out for bent ferns or broken bits of undergrowth. a council of war was held. there were some of the leavings of the feast of the night before in the cooking-pots, and on these and some coffee brought ashore in the small emergency box fitted into each canoe, they made a satisfactory breakfast, after which, as the result of their confab, it was decided to attempt to circumnavigate the island in the canoes. by this means they thought they were pretty sure of finding ben as the fact that the spot of land being unchartered argued against its being of any considerable size. in fifteen minutes the canoes were underway and rapidly skirting the island. on the smooth water they made swift progress and in little more than an hour had rounded the southerly point and were working their way up the other coast. the island had turned out to be even smaller than they thought. they were opposite a pretty little bay in which, instead of the everlasting mangroves, an inviting little strip of pure white sand, fringed by a green palm grove, sloped down to the water, when suddenly their ears were saluted by a shot from the woods. "ben stubbs!" was their simultaneous thought and the canoes were at once headed for the shore. having landed, the boys with loud shouts of "ahoy, ben!" dashed up through the woods which, to their astonishment, were threaded at this point by a path--a crude track certainly, but still a path. they did not give much time to the consideration of their surroundings however, their minds being bent on finding ben. suddenly out of the brush right ahead there sounded the "hoo-hoo" of an owl. now even lathrop was enough of a naturalist to know that owls do not hoot in the broad daylight, so they all stopped and exchanged wondering glances. "well, that's a new one," remarked billy sententiously. "who ever heard of an owl that knocked about in the sunlight before?" added lathrop. "even in this enchanted land," concluded harry. frank put all further speculation to rout by exclaiming, as the hoot was repeated from a further recess of the forest, and yet again in the still further distance: "that is not an owl's hoot, boys. it's a signal given by some human being." no wonder the boys looked startled. after the adventure of the previous night they had good reason to distrust any human being they might encounter on the island. whoever the inhabitants were they certainly had no good will toward the young adventurers, so much at least was patently evident. "well, come on, boys," cried frank at last, "there's no use stopping here," he added, as the "hoo-hoo" sounded uncannily from right behind them, "our escape to the boats is cut off." with grave looks they followed their young leader down the blind trail that led to they knew not what. suddenly, and without an instant's warning, a number of wild-looking, unkempt men and youths sprang out of the dense growth as if they had sprouted from the earth. they all carried ancient winchesters and one or two even had an old-fashioned flint-lock. their clothes were ragged to a degree. as ragged in fact as their hair and beards. with their thin, peaked noses, sunken cheeks, and wild, hawk-like eyes they were sinister looking specimens. "what d'ye want y'ar, strangers?" demanded one in a high nasal voice. "we came ashore on a hunting trip," rejoined frank. at this all the crackers set up a loud roar of laughter. "you 'uns are hunting big game, we reckon," remarked a gangling youth in tattered blue homespun. there was an angry murmur. things looked just about as bad as they could when suddenly an unexpected diversion occurred. a wild-looking young woman, whose movements, despite her miserable rags, were as graceful as those of a wild fawn, dashed through the jungle and appeared in the middle of the group which hemmed the boys in. "josh, you're a fool. jed, you're another, and you too, amelech, and will. why for don't you alls bring they 'uns into camp?" the men all looked sheepish. "yer see--," began one. the girl stamped her foot impatiently. "you alls ain't none of yer got no more sense than so many loons," she cried angrily. "don't you 'uns see that they 'uns is black bart's friends?" the men looked incredulous, but nevertheless their attitude changed. "wall, bein' that's the case, come ahead, strangers," said the tall man who had first spoken and, with their wild escort clustering about them, the wondering boys followed him down the dim trail. of who black bart might be or where they were going they had not the slightest idea, but that black bart's influence was so far favorable to them there seemed no reason to doubt. chapter ix. a message from the unknown. after a few minutes' travel they emerged without warning into a spherical clearing, perhaps sixty feet in circumference. all about it stood palmetto-thatched huts in which crouched timid-looking women and children. the place was enclosed by a solid wall of trees and closely growing vines. great gray beards of spanish moss waved from the trees above them. it was a spot that would have been impossible to find unless one had the key to the forest labyrinth. it was evidently the men's home. in one portion of the clearing was a singular apparatus that attracted the attention of the boys at once, puzzled though they were over their position, and whether they were in the hands of friends or enemies. this object was a huge iron kettle that was placed over a blazing fire of fat pine-knots. this fire was being fed by a youth who might have been the brother of one of the men who stopped them in the forest. a cover, evidently fashioned from some kind of wood, covered the iron pot and from this lid a pipe of metal led to a crude trough. from the end of the pipe was constantly dripping a colorless liquid which was carefully gathered into a small tin by the man stationed at the trough, and from time to time, he and others in the clearing took a sip from the tin. overcome by curiosity harry asked a lanky youth, who slouched by just then, what the affair might be. "don't ask no questions, stranger, and you won't git told no lies," was the impudent reply that made harry hanker--as he whispered to billy--to "land the perambulating clothes-horse one on the jaw." but the mystery was soon to be cleared up and in a surprising way. while the boys were still wondering what sort of a place and into what sort of company they could have fallen, a figure came striding toward them that they at once recognized with a thrill of delight at seeing a familiar face. the newcomer was ben stubbs. he looked rather sheepish as the boys hailed him with loud shouts of delight and seemed embarrassed when frank asked him what he was doing in this queer settlement. "wall, boys," he said at length, "i declar' to goodness i don' know but what you'll think i'm a piratical sort of craft, but--but the fact is that these folks around this yere camp are old shipmates of mine in a manner of speaking, an' so you needn't be a bit afeard. yer as safe as if you were in your own bunks." as may be imagined this did not at all clear up the clouds of mystery that ben stubbs' sudden appearance had aroused in the boys' minds. "yes, but who are these people?" demanded frank. "how did you get here?" chimed in harry. "and who may black bart be?" was billy's contribution. "and what is that funny pot with a pipe on the top of it over there?" concluded lathrop. "one at a time, mates,--one at a time or you'll swamp me," cried ben, getting back a little of his easy-going manner; "wail, now, first of all, i am black bart." "what?" was the amazed chorus. "sure," was the reply, "but i've reformed now, shipmates, so don't be afeard; but the boys here still call me by the old name." "well, go on, black bart," said frank, smiling at the idea of good-natured ben's ever having owned such a ferocious name. "wall," drawled ben, "i got here in the squeegee after i had seen from the _carrier dove_ a man snooping around our fire and heard the old 'hoo-hoo' cry--the owl hail, you know." the boys nodded. "we heard it in the jungle before we were surrounded," said frank. "that gave me a queer idea--the hearing of the old cry did"--went on ben--"that there might be some of my friends hereabout. i had reason to know they were in this part of the country, for after they were driven out of tennessee by the government a lot of them came down here into the 'glades." "driven out by the government?" echoed frank. "sure," was the easy reply, "and now to answer your last question--that thing my young shipmate lathrop calls a 'funny pot' is a whisky still and these folks you see around us are moonshiners. there's a price on the head of most every one of them," concluded ben. the boys looked their questions. their amazement prevented them speaking. "yes," continued ben in a low voice, "most of the older ones has dropped a 'revenue' at one time or another. poor devils, if you'd ever seen the way they were hounded you maybe wouldn't blame 'em so much." "were you ever a moonshiner, ben?" asked lathrop in an awed tone. ben winked with a wink that spoke volumes. "say a friend of the moonshiners, younker, and you'll be near it," he replied. "i used to keep a kind of traveling store to help the boys out." from which the boys gathered that at one period of his adventurous career the versatile ben had been a "runner" of moonshine whisky--as the man is called who, at great risks, carries the poisonous stuff into the outer world from the secret mountain stills where it is made. the coincidence of ben meeting his old friends on the island was after all not so remarkable as it seemed. since the government has run most of the moonshiners out of the tennessee and north carolina mountains hundreds of them have taken refuge in the keys and among the 'glades where their product finds a ready market among the seminoles--who gladly destroy themselves with "whyome" as they call the product of the illicit stills. the boys soon found out that it was one of the moonshiners who had tried to get frank's revolver from under his pillow while he slept--not with intent to do him any harm but because the sight of the weapon earlier in the evening while they had been singing round the camp-fire--watched as it now appeared by a hundred keen eyes--had excited his desire to own it. the mystery of the motor-boat that kidnapped poor pork chops, however, was in no wise cleared up, and as the boys and ben sat down to a meal of yellow corn pone, broiled wild hog, pompano, fried plantain and a sort of orange preserve, to which they did ample justice, the subject occupied most of their thoughts and conversation. as they ate the moonshiners shyly watched them with their wild, hunted eyes. they refused to sit down to eat with the party of adventurers, but flitted about evidencing much interest at the boys' table manners and their plain embarrassment at having no other table utensils but their fingers. the meal concluded, ben lit his pipe and gave himself up to after-dinner contemplation. the boys wandered about the camp unchecked. the moonshiners seemed even disposed to be friendly, in an offish sort of way, after ben's endorsement of the boys. one of them approached them with a pannikin full of the colorless stuff from the still. he explained that they distilled it from fields of cane they had in another part of the island. the very smell of the stuff sickened the boys, who waved it away as politely as they could. their refusal did not ruffle the moonshiner, who drained the pannikin off himself with evident relish although the portion he had poured out had been intended to suffice the entire quartette of boys. "black bart," too, had a little fallen off in the estimation of the moonshiners because he also refused to touch their product. they shook their heads over his negative reply to an invitation to drink as men who regret the downfall of a once upright man. while the boys were wandering about the camp their attention was attracted to a bottle suspended to a pole outside the hut of one of the moonshiners. it was swathed in ribbons and bits of bright tin and seemed to be regarded as some sort of a costly ornament. this was partly explained by the fact that the wife of the owner of the hut was an indian woman and was the person who had ornamented the bottle for "big medicine." but a closer scrutiny revealed to the boys a rolled piece of paper inside it on which there was some faint writing. as it seemed to be in english their curiosity was therefore considerably aroused. they questioned the woman closely about it. at first they could get no satisfactory replies. at length, however, after frank had given her a bright silver dollar--she refused a paper one--the squaw became more talkative. "um-him come from o-tee (islands) long time go." she pointed to the westward. "the islands round cape sable?" asked frank. she seemed to understand, for she nodded. "my man find him--he float," she grunted. "boys, this bottle was found afloat. this may be a message from some poor fellow who is cast away on the ten thousand islands," exclaimed frank. the others looked skeptical. "most of these bottle messages are fakes anyhow," said billy, with an air of finality. but frank was not satisfied. he questioned the woman at greater length. after a long, patient interrogation he found that her husband, who was absent from the camp, had been delivering a consignment of moonshine to a camp of seminoles in the wildest part of the 'glades and had found the bottle off the mouth of the shark river. it had a tiny bit of red flannel tied round its neck as if to attract attention to it. this decided frank. no joker would have gone to that trouble. he secured the bottle from the squaw for what seemed to him in his eagerness a ridiculously small amount, while she in her turn thought the young hot-ka-tee (white man) must be crazy to give so much for it, although to be sure, she esteemed it a valuable possession. with a heavy stone frank cracked the neck off his purchase and eagerly shook out the note it contained. what he expected to find even he scarcely knew, but the bottle and its hidden message had appealed strongly to the boy's nature,--in which there was a strong dash of imaginative mingled with the practical sense that had enabled him to carry so many adventures to a successful issue. the paper was crumpled up and it took a good deal of smoothing out before frank could read the few faintly pencilled lines that were on its surface. after much puzzling, however, he made out: "th-y a ---tak--g m-," then there was a long blank that exposure had obliterated. the next legible words were: "to the 'glades. ----stole----ret of----ite. send help." c-----p--n, u. s. n. for a few seconds the full significance of the words did not penetrate frank's brain. the gaps puzzled him and he did not pay much attention to the general significance of the screed. suddenly, however, the full meaning of his find fairly leaped at him from the page. the letter had been written by the missing lieutenant chapin. there could be no doubt of it. reconstructed the letter read: "they are taking me into the 'glades. they stole the secret of chapinite. send help. chapin, u. s. n." wildly excited over his discovery frank's shout brought his companions round him in a minute. hastily he explained his find. the sensation it created may be imagined. here was the first definite news of the missing man discovered by an extraordinary chance in the camp of a band of outcast moonshiners. "where was this yere communication found?" demanded ben. frank explained where and when the squaw had told him the moonshiner discovered the bottle. ben knitted his brows for a minute and then spoke with decision. "they took him into the 'glades up one of the west-shore rivers," he exclaimed at length. "the tides on this coast would never have drifted the bottle round there. it must have come down the river, maybe from the interior of the 'glades themselves, or maybe he threw it overboard from the _mist_ when she was wrecked." at this moment there came a startling interruption. about a dozen of the wild-looking moonshiners appeared, dragging into the clearing a rumpled heap of humanity whom the boys at once recognized as the man they had caught eavesdropping in washington, and who had, as they believed, followed them to miami after failing to destroy the _golden eagle_ at white plains. the captive--who is known to our readers from his signing of the message from washington to florida as nego--recognized in a flash that he was face to face with the boy aviators. for a fragment of time the group stood as though carved from stone. chapter x. the captive's warning. the captive was the first to break the picture. with a violent wrench he freed himself of the arms of his captors, while the boys gazed in dumb amazement at the unexpected encounter. "what's this here buccaneer bein' a' doing of now?" demanded ben, after a few seconds. "we 'uns caught him trying to scuttle you 'uns canoes," explained one of the crackers, "and we calculate to have him decorating a tree-bough by sundown on our own account. we don't like live strangers round here." the face of the man we know as nego grew as yellow as parchment. there was little doubt from the expressions of the moonshiners' faces that they were quite capable of carrying out their threat. in fact a murmur of approval greeted the cold-blooded proposal. one man--a little short fellow with a tangle of black whiskers that reached to his waist--even pointed to a custard apple-tree that grew at the edge of the clearing and remarked casually: "he'd look uncommon well decorating that thar tree i'm thinking." after the boys had made insistent demands to be given the details of nego's capture they were finally informed that a group of the moonshiners, who had been off wild-hog hunting, had been much surprised to see the motor-boat manoeuvring off the point on the far side of which the boys had beached the canoes. they stealthily watched the two men who were in the craft from the screen provided by the mangroves. one of them--the man they had captured,--continually scanned the shore with a pair of field-glasses. "they must have known we had left the sloop and come in pursuit of us," exclaimed frank and harry in one breath as the narrator reached this point of his story. after rounding the point it appeared that the watchers, who had been sneaking along through the undergrowth, saw nego order the boat's head pointed for the shore and when she was fairly close in, get into a small dinghy that towed astern and come ashore at the spot where the canoes were lying. he carried a small axe and was about to raise it and destroy the craft when the crackers, with a startling yell, burst out of the woods and made him a captive. the other man must have seen his comrade's plight, for he instantly headed the motor-boat about and giving her full speed vanished round the projection on the coast of the island. the boys' faces paled as a common thought flashed across their minds. "what if the two men had visited the sloop and scuttled her or destroyed the _golden eagle ii_?" harry was the first to voice their fears. frank's answer, however, gave the adventurers a gleam of hope. "that occurred to me, harry," he replied, "but, on thinking it over, i think it is more likely that they planned to destroy the canoes before attacking the _carrier dove_, as with the small craft stove in they would be able to work without fear of our paddling back and surprising them." they agreed that this was a reasonable theory and turned their attention to the captive who stood defiantly with folded arms and a sneering expression on his dark face. he looked very different from the well-dressed man who had first attracted their attention in the dining-room at the hotel willard, but he was unmistakably the same despite the fact that now his chin was covered with a heavy stubble and he wore rough clothes and a dark blue flannel shirt. "who are you?" demanded frank finally. the dark man raised his eyebrows and as he did so the boys noticed at once the cause of his peculiar expression. the man's eyes were almost almond-shaped, dark and malevolent looking--the eyes of an oriental. combined with his dark yellow skin they stamped him at once as an unmistakable subject of the ruler of the far eastern power the agents of which the secretary of the navy was certain, had kidnapped lieutenant chapin and stolen the formula of his explosive. when he spoke it was in a rasping voice that matched well his general appearance of sinister energy. "what if i should refuse to tell you?" he grated. "in that case you would be very foolish," rejoined frank, "you are now in the power of these men, over whom we have some influence. if you will give us some information we will in return try to intervene for you, notwithstanding the fact that you have tried to blow up our aerodrome and now we find you here attempting to scuttle our canoes. what have you done with the colored man you took from the sloop last night?" he demanded suddenly. "to that i shall simply reply that he is in good hands," was the rejoinder. "not if he's got anything to do with you, he ain't, my fine fellow," put in ben indignantly. the man looked at him with cold contempt. "you may do with me what you will," he said proudly, "i shall not sue americans for my liberty or even my life." the boys were amazed at the cool audacity of the man. with death staring him in the face, surrounded by the cruel faces of men who would have no hesitancy in killing him, he showed no more trace of emotion than if he were still sitting eavesdropping in the willard dining-room. "we 'uns will find a way to make him talk," broke in one of the moonshiners, a big, powerful fellow. "here, shadduck, heat up the gun-barrels." the boys looked puzzled, but ben realized at once the horrible thing the man contemplated. they meant to brand the prisoner with the red-hot gun-barrels. "avast there," he cried, "none of that in this yere ship. fair play and all above board. if you want to string up this fellow to the yard-arm i don't know, if it wasn't for my friends here, that i'd say 'no,' but we ain't going to have no branding." "who are you to be giving orders?" demanded the man who had made the suggestion angrily and leaning forward on his rifle, "i reckon we 'uns ain't asking for your advice or figgering on taking it either." several of the younger men muttered, "that's right--who's he to come here 'a ordering us about." "i wouldn't put it past yer that you're turned a revenue," went on the first speaker following up his advantage. at this an angry cry went up. the boys and ben perceived that matters would soon reach a crisis if something were not done. ben, however, knew how to handle these people better than his young companions imagined. with two quick steps he was alongside the trouble-maker and seizing him in an iron grasp put his face close to his and fairly hissed in his ear: "look a here, 'red' mavell, one more word like that and you're as good as dead--understand?" the other apparently did for he sullenly muttered: "ain't no use a gettin' het up. you know the way we do these things an' if you don't like 'em you don't have to stay and watch." during this scene nego had stood as impassively as if carved out of wood. indeed with his parchment-like skin and dark, slit eyes he did resemble an oriental ivory image almost as much as a human being. it was of course evident to him that escape was impossible. rugged, wild-eyed moonshiners stood all about him and the women even had come out of the huts, with their timid children peeping from behind their skirts, to be onlookers at the unwonted scene. the captive retained his posture of proud defiance in the face of this. his bearing was even insolent in fact. "look here, mates," went on ben, turning suddenly to the boys, "we don't want to have any hand in killing this here reptile--much reason as we've got to--and we don't want him to be tortured, and i'll be keelhauled if we want to keep him," he glanced ferociously at the captive, "the only thing to do is to turn him loose." the captive's face lost its impassivity for a moment. so completely had ben's determined manner cowed the more ruffianly moonshiners that even they did not demur. "but there's a string hitched to the offer," went on ben, "if we do let yer go you've got to make tracks in that thar motor-boat of yours for the north and swear to follow us no further. and tell us what you've done with that thar poor coon." "yes, that is our proposal," said frank, "if we get you out of the hands of these people you will have to pledge us your word to trail us no further and to leave this part of the country at once--will you do that?" "if we were only north we'd have you in jail by this time," put in billy angrily. the man was silent for a moment with his eyes downcast, then he looked up but with some of the expression of sullen cunning obliterated from his dark face at least temporarily. it was plain the americans' generosity had affected him. "i do promise--yes," he said quietly. "my companion was to wait for me in the motor-boat till i signaled to him that i was going to put off again. if you will let me go i promise to go straight on board and never trouble you again." "but they said your companion put about and drove the boat round the point when he saw your capture," objected harry. the other smiled. "simply a measure of prudence," he said. "i can easily signal him with this," he drew from his pocket a small whistle, of the shrill kind known to seafaring men as the "bos'n's pipe." "but," he went on in a grave tone, "i want to do something to repay you for your kindness which i confess i do not understand--you americans are a queer people." "blame lucky for you we are," snorted ben, who didn't much like the cool way the captive took his good fortune. "do not fear for your negro. he is safe. we put him ashore this morning, and by this time he must be at your camp. we only carried him off in an attempt to prevent his giving the alarm. but," and his voice sank to a whisper, "give this attempt up. do not go into the everglades." frank gazed at him in astonishment. the tone he used was full of import. "grave danger threatens you there," the other went on, "more than danger--death itself and in a terrible form. as for me i have pledged you my word. i am your country's enemy, but i know brave and generous men when i see them; you have no more to fear from me----" "well, you haven't done us much harm anyway," frank could not refrain from saying, "though i'll admit you have tried," he added. "i have but been the agent for others more powerful, more unscrupulous and more to be feared than i," the other replied, "even now your coming is being looked for." "then you did spy on us in washington," cried frank. "i did, and telegraphed my report to my superiors," replied the man, "it was my duty. we soldiers of the samurai know no word but duty when we are assigned to a task." "then you are an officer?" asked frank. "i am in the onaki regiment. i fought through the russian war and was afterward given the honor to assist in the enterprise which you are about to try to frustrate." "i don't see much honor in what you and your countrymen have done," rejoined frank warmly; "it looks to me like plain everyday stealing and worse." "perhaps," replied the other with a slight shrug. "our points of view are different. now," he said abruptly, "i must be going. we must be well on our way north by dark for the inland channels are very intricate to navigate in and our boat draws a good deal of water. "recollect what i have said and be warned," he repeated impressively. as he spoke there came a low growl of thunder in the distance and a heavy splotch of rain fell on the back of frank's hand. they all looked up astonished. so engrossed had they been by the remarkable scene that had just transpired that they had not noticed that for some time the sky had been growing blacker and that one of the sudden storms, peculiar to the tropics, had been advancing towards them with all the rapidity that marks the advent of a "black squall," as they are sometimes called. the sky had in a few minutes become overcast completely with an ominous slate-colored pall. a hush as if of expectancy had fallen on the jungle about them. "you are likely to get a ducking if you don't git aboard before this yere squall breaks," growled ben as his seaman's eye noted the signs of bad weather. the oriental swept the overcast sky with a quick glance. he nodded. "good-bye and thank you," he said, and the next minute, guided by one of the moonshiners, he vanished down the trail leading to the shore. the moonshiners turned to the adventurers with sardonic looks as he disappeared. "you 'uns might better have let us hang him," said one of them, "he'll work you a pesky lot of mischief yet." "i don't believe he will trouble us any more," rejoined frank, who had been impressed by the man's earnest manner and evident gratitude. how soon and how literally his words were to be fulfilled he little imagined. chapter xi. the black squall. the boys were so engrossed in discussing the sudden conversion of their late enemy to a friend--or at least to no longer a source of menace--that it was not till a good ten minutes later that frank suddenly exclaimed: "the canoes!" the spot where they had drawn them up was near the margin of the sea and the heavy waves that the approaching storm would stir up would be sure to swamp them if they were not moved from their present position. "come on, boys, we've got to hurry," shouted ben, and followed by the young adventurers he dashed off down the trail that the others had traversed a few minutes previously. they reached the shore just in time to hear three shrill blasts from the released captive's whistle. he was in his small boat about a hundred yards off shore and looking anxiously about. he had good reason to. the thunder-growls were coming nearer, and far to the south, across the dark cloud curtains, great jagged flashes of lightning were ripping and tearing. the sea, too, was beginning to rise with that peculiar moaning sound that precedes a mighty disturbance of its waters. the rain fell in torrents that whitened the surface of the sea. the work of getting the canoes hauled into a safe place was soon performed, more especially as they had the aid of several of the moonshiners who had accompanied them to the beach to see the last of the man they would have cheerfully hanged a few minutes before. the small craft were hardly snugly stowed when round the point through the downpour, glided the motor-boat. she was low and long and painted dull black and must have been equipped with powerful engines for she shot through the water like a snake. the man in the dinghy soon clambered on board and turned to wave farewell to the soaking group of watchers on the beach. "gee! i'd give a hundred dollars for an umbrella," remarked billy. "i hope that's his good-bye and not _au revoir_," remarked lathrop. "i think you let him off much too easy, frank," he added. "so do i," put in lathrop, "he really deserved some punishment." "what were we to do?" asked frank. "anyhow if he doesn't keep his word we know his measure now and can look out for him and see he doesn't get off so easy next time. besides, if we had left him here these moonshiners would have been sure to have killed him. ben stubbs told me they don't hesitate to make away with any stranger-----" "who hasn't got a letter of introduction," billy finished for him. "well, it's a good thing we had a sponsor, or we might have been ornamenting the foliage." as the boy spoke there was a sudden shout from ben of: "holy skysails, look at that!" the boys' eyes followed the direction in which he excitedly pointed. to the southward, before the advancing curtain of lightning torn storm-clouds rolled a great wall of green water, ridged on the top with a line of flaky-white foam. it was tearing along toward them at the rate of an express train. fascinated by the spectacle of the mighty wave the boys stood watching it for a moment in awed wonder. its great volume was outlined against the background of cloud as it reared its foamy crest above the dark level swells like a watery parapet. as they gazed the same thought struck them simultaneously and a cry of horror broke from the lips of every member of the group. the motor-boat! it was directly in the path of the advancing mountain of water. the two men on board the boat, who had been busied in attaching the dinghy's painter to the stern cleats, looked up almost at the same moment as those ashore realized their peril. the boys saw them hastily rush to their posts; one forward to the wheel in the bow, the other bending over the engines which had been stopped when the dinghy had been picked up. they were evidently panic-stricken. the noise of their terrified, confused shouts was borne shoreward on the wind. "can we do nothing?" asked harry, horrified at the vision of the two doomed men struggling aimlessly to escape the deadly peril that was bearing down on them. "nothing," responded frank, as agitated as the younger boy; "if their boat cannot weather that wave nothing can save them." the sea in the immediate vicinity of the island began to heave in heavy shouldering swells as the black squall advanced and the wave grew nearer and even more menacing as its distance from them decreased. it was apparent that far back as even the canoes were hauled, they would have to be hauled further inland if they were to escape damage. this work was at once set about and the canoes dragged fully a hundred yards from the beach. "the wave will be all bust up by the mangroves and they'll not get much more than a wetting up here," remarked ben. this work done, frank suggested that they climb into the branches of a wide-spreading guava tree so as to be out of harm's way and also be able to watch the motor-boat's fight for life. "we might see a chance to help the poor fellows," he said. the moonshiners, with impassive faces, followed the adventurers' example and soon all of them were roosting in the trees. hardly had they settled when the mighty wave towered within a few hundred yards of the black motor-boat. the occupants seemed to have lost their heads completely at the imminence of the danger and were not even attempting to do anything to relieve the situation. the man who owed his life to the boys stood erect in the stern and with his arms folded gazed at the advancing doom. the other was groveling in terror on the boat's thwarts. suddenly they saw the man in the stern spring to the engine and crank the machine desperately. the boat began to move rapidly through the swells, tossing their heads in spray over her sharp bow. "she's going to race it," amazedly exclaimed harry. "there's not a chance," cried frank, as the boat gathered speed and fled like some frightened creature before the pursuing peril. she fairly leaped through the water like a live thing. with parted lips and throbbing pulses the boys watched the beginning of the unequal struggle. gamely as the helmsman guided the flying craft over the swells the great wave gained on him. the man who had been groveling in the boat in sheer terror was now on his feet. he hung onto the stern coaming and gazed back as if fascinated with awe at the pursuing nemesis. the man in the bow never turned his head; he gazed straight forward. suddenly a cry that even the boys could hear broke from the lips of the man in the stern. "the engine's stopped!" cried frank. even as the words left his lips the giant comber caught the boat's stern. it raised her up and up till she seemed fairly to stand erect on her bow, stern in air. for an imperceptible segment of time she remained so. the next second she was blotted out of existence in a mighty vortex of water. before the cry of horror at the swift tragedy that had been enacted before them had died from the boys' lips the wave broke on the shore. with a crash like the explosion of a powder magazine it smashed itself on the beach and a mighty inrush of water followed. the spray of its landing flew as high as the tree-tops. "a good thing we're up here," cried billy, as the water came swirling through the jungle beneath them. "a good thing we hauled the canoes up, you mean," said frank, as he anxiously watched the frail craft--as far inland as they lay--picked up like feathers and dashed about by the inroad of the sea. to his relief, however, they survived their buffeting undamaged, thanks to their extra strong construction. the water rushed back down the sloping shore of the island as swiftly as it had advanced. a few minutes later they were able to descend and hurry to the beach. there was no danger of a second monster wave ben assured them. they suddenly realized though that they were dripping wet through from the torrential downpour that had accompanied the storm, but their anxiety to see if any trace of the motor-boat or her occupants reappeared prevailed over their discomfort. they stood on the beach scouring the sea with burning eyes, but it was empty of life. they remained silently gazing before them for several minutes--it was ben who broke the silence: "what about the _carrier dove_? has the wave struck her?" were the words that brought them all out of their reverie with an anxious start. chapter xii. pork chops proves his metal. it was impossible to consider rounding the island in the canoes in the sea that was running; but this difficulty was got over by ben, who impressed a guide from the moonshiners' settlement to guide them around to the spot where they had camped, and off which the _carrier dove_ was moored. arrangements were also made to have the canoes carried across the island later by three strapping young crackers, who were glad of the chance to earn a little money by proffering their services. these arrangements completed the start across the island was made, and after about three hours traveling the boys reached the spot where they had camped. they hurried anxiously to the beach. it was evident that the storm had not struck this side of the island with anything like the violence with which it had broken on the other shore. this raised the boys' hopes for a few moments but they were destined to be as quickly dashed. no _carrier dove_ rode at anchor. in fact the usually placid sea, still heaving under the influence of the squall which had now passed away, was as devoid of life as a desert as far as their eyes could reach. it was a bitter moment. neither frank nor harry dared trust their voices to speak. they swallowed hard while their eyes brimmed at this wretched ending of their hopes. with the _carrier dove_ gone--and more than that with the _golden eagle ii_, at the bottom of the sea, it would be useless to keep on. they would have to turn back and admit they had ignominiously failed. as for ben stubbs, he removed his hat, scratched his head and remarked: "well, i'll be double-darned, horn-swaggled----" that was all, but there was a wealth of meaning in his tone. lathrop and billy stood to one side, both realized what the boy aviators must be suffering at the sudden dashing to the earth of their high hopes. a cruder disappointment could not in fact be imagined. the work of their brains and the fruit of long experiment and research had been swallowed by the same hungry sea that had destroyed two of their enemies. practical ben stubbs broke the silence. "here you get along home and tell 'em to send us some grub," he ordered the lanky young moonshiner who had escorted them. "i reckon we'll camp out to-night." when the man had hurried off, ben set to work getting a fire. when he had it in a bright blaze he shouted: "all hands to the fire to get dry; no use of dying of rumatiz even if the sloop is gone." the boys, despondent as they were, saw the wisdom of his words and crowded about the blaze. they stripped to their underwear and hung their garments on a sort of long stick laid across two forked ones stuck in the ground about six feet apart in front of the fire. "now, that's ship-shape," he remarked when a row of wet clothes were hung on his handiwork to dry in the warmth, "next thing to do is to consider the situation, as the young man said when they offered him a good job as hangman." ben's flow of spirits had an effect on all the boys, who sat dejectedly around the fire in their wet underclothes. to tell the truth the old adventurer was far from feeling as cheerful as he tried to appear, but like all men who have faced real hardships he knew the value of making the best of a situation. "well," said frank with a melancholy smile. "what do you make of it, ben?" "what did that there poor fellow that's drownded say to you he done with pork chops?" was the irrelevant reply. "oh, he said that they had put him ashore early to-day," replied frank. "i don't see what that's got to do with it." "might have a good deal," replied ben. "i wonder where that black lubber is. he'll have fifty-seven varieties of fits when he finds his boat's gone--worse'n the skipper's cat that lost all his nine lives at once when the shop's rats gave out." "he can easily replace that rickety old sloop," said harry irritably; "to restore what we have lost will take months of work and more money than we can get." "if we can even get back to new york from this moonshining island we'll be lucky," grumbled lathrop. "oh, don't rub it in," muttered billy. it was very plain that all the young adventurers were overwrought. more for the sake of creating a diversion than anything else, ben said: "wonder what's become of that floating pumpkin-seed the squeegee?" "washed away, i suppose," said frank in an uninterested tone. the loss of the ungraceful squeegee didn't interest him much at that moment. "she'd have been washed inshore by the waves," mused ben, "if she'd been driven anywhere; besides i hitched her to that tree yonder down by the beach. hullo, that's funny," he broke off suddenly and rapidly walked toward the tree to which the squeegee's painter had been hitched. he examined the surface. there was no bit of rope hanging to it as he knew would have been the case if the painter had been snapped. "someone untied that rope," said ben to himself in a tone of deep conviction. hastening up the beach to where the boys were grouped ben confided his discovery to them. "who do you suppose took it?" asked frank. "some no-good moonshiner, i suppose," snorted ben indignantly. "keelhaul those fellows, they're a natural born pest, the whole boiling of them." "do you think they could have weathered the squall in her?" asked billy. ben laughed incredulously. "no, sir," he replied. "i doubt he'd last out a squall as long in that craft as it would take a sailor to eat a piece of plum-duff. whoever took that boat is at the bottom of the sea by now and the squeegee along with him." it was dusk when the young moonshiner returned loaded with provisions for which the boys against his protest insisted on paying. there was a big piece of roast venison, sour-dough bread, roast land crab, a plethoric pot of beans and a plentiful supply of cassava cakes--even coffee had not been forgotten. everybody cheered up a little at the sight of the food. it is wonderful what heart a good meal, even in prospect, can put into a healthy boy, and our young adventurers were no exception to the rule. declining their invitation to stay and share the meal the young moonshiner plunged off hurriedly into the home trail. in fifteen minutes ben had the coffee ready and the cassava cakes heated on hot stones. after a hearty meal, of which indeed they stood in need, the party donned their clothes,--which were now thoroughly dry,--and earnestly discussed their prospects. only ben, who sat apart, took no hand in the conversation. only once, however, he irrelevantly remarked: "keelhaul that pork chops, where is he?" that the boys did not sleep their usual peaceful slumbers that night may be imagined. for hours they tossed and turned under their blankets and watched the fire die down and fade first to a ruddy glow and then to blackness. it might have been an hour after midnight when the moon rose and shimmered over the sea, now perfectly smooth. had their minds been at ease the boys would have been enraptured with the beauty of the tropic night. as it was, however, the coming of the moon and the illumination of the sea merely served frank as an opportunity further to scan the scene for any trace of the _carrier dove_. casting off his blanket he hastened to the strip of beach on which the smooth swells were breaking with a milder thunder than usual. with his night-glasses he swept the midnight sea from horizon to horizon. there was no result. thoroughly dejected he cast himself at the foot of a huge palmetto and gazed intently out to sea riveting his mind on the present situation of himself and the little band of which the boy aviators were the leaders. suddenly the current of his gloomy thoughts was broken in on by an occurrence which brought him to his feet with a bound. a low lying group of brilliant stars just above the horizon had been blotted out. something had passed between the boy and the stars. that something could only be a sail, and a sail meant at least rescue from the island. with a bound frank, glasses in hand, was knee-deep in the surf. it was a sail! with trembling hands he brought the glasses to a better focus. intently he gazed till his eyes burned in his head. the craft was a sloop! hardly daring to admit to his mind the wild hope that had suddenly arisen, frank watched the strange sail as it grew nearer. before the gentle breeze the craft advanced slowly to within a hundred yards of shore and then a dark figure bounded along her decks and there was a loud rattle from her cable as the anchor was let go and she swung into the wind with flapping mainsail. another moment and her canvas was lowered with a run and she lay at anchor. with his heart in his mouth frank hailed: "_carrier dove_, ahoy!" "dat you, marse frank--bress de lawd--bress de lawd!" came back across the water in pork chops' rasping voice; but had it been the golden tones of an opera singer that answered his hail the sound could not have been sweeter to frank's ear at that moment than pork chops' frog-like croak of welcome. _the golden eagle ii_ was safe! before the echo of the _carrier dove's_ noisy arrival had died out in the woods, the young adventurers, hand-in-hand, were dancing in a wild circle round the bewildered ben stubbs, yelling like comanches. "hurray! hurray! hurray!" chapter xiii. the front door of the 'glades. there was little more sleep for the boys that night and when at daybreak half-a-dozen of the moonshiners appeared with the canoe it may be imagined that the boys lost little time in getting aboard the _carrier dove_ where their inky navigator was so delighted to see them that he danced a sort of double shuffle of joy from one end of his disreputable craft to the other. the story of how the _carrier dove_ had come to weather the storm was soon told. after the two men, who had not harmed him, had set him ashore from the motor-boat at the other end of the island the black, with the instinct of locality common to his race, had easily made his way to the camp. to his amazement it was deserted and he was filled with fear that some disaster had happened to the boys and ben. he had not much time for speculation however, for hardly had he looked about him when the rapid approach of the black squall that had caused such havoc on the other side of the island made him bestir himself to get his beloved _carrier dove_ to a safer place than her present anchorage. he therefore jumped into the squeegee and rowed out to his craft. he had just time to set her sails and up anchor when the squall struck down in all its fury. pork chops told his story with a wealth of gesture and dramatic effect and the boys could hardly refrain from bursting into roars of laughter as he described "de mon'surious wabe what had rised up out of the sea like yeast bread an' et up de po' li'l squeegee." "how high was the wave. pork chops?" asked frank. "'bout as high as de highes' mountain you ever see, marse frank, and dat am a solemn gospel fact," averred pork chops. "he ris' so high above de ol' _carrier dobe's_ mas' dat it 'peared lak i could'n see no sky." "oh, come, pork chops," laughed harry, "you'll have to take a little off the top of that wave." "won' tak off not a single solingtary inch, marse harry," indignantly replied the skipper of the sloop. "i wish ah may nevah see miami again ef dat dar wabe weren't jus' as i done describe him to you." "well, it was pretty big and that's a fact," said billy barnes with a wink at the others, "but you must have magnifying eyes to see it as big as you describe it." "hoi' on dar a minute, marse barnes," earnestly said the old negro, "ah don' know jus' what you mean by dat dar magnaminous eye, but tell me didn' you all see dat dar wabe from de udder side ob de island?" "certainly," said lathrop, "what's that got to do with it?" "wall, it mus' jus' naturally have growed by de time it got round here; das all ah got to say," triumphantly concluded the old darky. continuing his narrative pork chops told how the little sloop had driven through the water "faster than de fastest ex-press you eber seen." he didn't forget either to pay himself a high tribute to his own skill as a mariner. "reckon dat ol' man noah didn't have nothin' on cap'n pok chops when it come to sailin' roun' wid skill and duxturity," he remarked. "well," commented frank, "we don't want to spoil you by too much praise, pork chops, but that certainly was an a no. 1 feat of yours, and i never heard a more welcome sound than that croak of yours when you dropped anchor." after despatching huge quantities of fried bacon and coffee, cooked on the battered sea stove the _carrier dove's_ cabin boasted, and which pork chops proudly referred to as "de galley," the adventurers up anchored and with their little engine chugging merrily away stood on toward the south. the canoes in a long tandem-like line were towed astern, as there was every prospect of smooth water for the rest of the day. as the _carrier dove_ bore past the southern end of the island a canoe shot round the point. in it were two figures. one was the moonshiner who had been so anxious to despatch the unfortunate nego, the other was a younger man whom the boys recollected to have seen in the camp the day before. they waved and shouted something that the boys could not catch but, as they evidently had some important object in paddling out, the young commander ordered the engine stopped and the _carrier dove_ lay to, rising and falling on the long swells over which the canoe rode as gracefully as a sea-bird. a few moments later the canoe ran alongside and the elder of the two men addressing frank said: "wall, the bodies of them two came ashore this morning and on the one you wouldn't let us string up we found this." he fumbled in his homespun shirt a minute and then produced a tiny carved figure of green jade. it was the image of a squatting buddha and evidently of great antiquity. "was this all you found?" said frank, examining the quaint figure with interest. "sure," replied the other unblushingly, "ain't it worth something to you 'uns for we 'uns to hev fetched it to you?" frank knew that the man lied when he said that the little jade god had been the only thing found on the dead man but he did not deem it worth while to contradict. he had little doubt that the dead man's watch and diamond rings were at that moment in the possession of the individual who had addressed him, or some other of the moonshiners. he, however, took the hint conveyed in the man's last words and handed him over a bill. the fellow took it without a word and shoved off. "you 'uns may get out of the 'glades alive but i don't believe it," were his parting words. "he's got what you might call a nice sweet disposition that feller," remarked ben, as the canoe was rapidly paddled away and the adventurers got under way once more, "he'd make a good shipmate, he would, with that sunny nature of hisn." frank examined the little jade god with close attention while the others leaned over his shoulders. the figure was not much more than two inches high and of beautiful workmanship. it was evidently of great antiquity and seemed to have been venerated as a charm by successive generations, for it was worn quite smooth in parts as if from constant rubbing against the clothing of the person wearing it. at the top of the head there was a small opening, round the edges of which were inscribed characters that were meaningless to the boys. "what do you suppose is the significance of it?" asked harry. "it is evidently some sort of an amulet," responded frank. "i've seen 'em in china and japan," put in ben stubbs, "whistling gods they call 'em there. lend it here a minute." frank handed it to him and ben put his lips to the orifice at the top of the figure's head. he blew hard in it and the figure gave out a clear, penetrating note that evidently traveled a long distance, for the two moonshiners stood up in their now distant canoe and gazed back in astonishment at the sound. "them chinas and japs set a high value on these," commented ben, "some of 'em would give their lives for one." "well, we'll keep it as a souvenir," remarked frank, slipping it in his pocket. "it will be amusing to have it to recall some of our adventures when we get back to new york." that afternoon a good brisk breeze from the northwest sprang up and the _carrier dove_ with her canvas spread bowled along at a good ten knots before it, heeling over till the foam creamed at her lee scuppers. it was exhilarating sailing. after a long series of alternate calms and favoring breezes the adventurers' craft finally rounded cape sable and shortly afterwards entered the maze of channels, islands, sandbars and treacherous shoals that make up the ten thousand island archipelago. the young adventurers had finished the first stage of their daring enterprise. by far the most difficult part lay before them. as frank put it they had arrived "at the front door of the everglades," what lay beyond was only conjecture. according to the prearranged plan they were to cruise about at the edge of the archipelago till the _tarantula_ hove in sight and they could make final arrangements for wireless codes and signals and also complete the plan of rescuing lieutenant chapin and getting the formula out of the hands of those who had it. after two days of waiting, which sadly irritated the boys, who were keenly impatient to begin their task, one morning the placid waters of the gulf were furrowed by the sharp bow of the _tarantula_ and the _carrier dove_ sailed out to meet her. on board the destroyer the boys were greeted by a very youthful looking lieutenant, whose name was selby. he explained that his orders were to keep in constant touch with the expedition, so far as was possible, by wireless and that if they were missing without sending any word for more than a week he was to take a squad of men and penetrate the everglades in search of them. he was very anxious for the boys to take several picked men of his crew along with them in their bold dash. but frank and harry, after a brief consultation, agreed that the force they had at present formed a good working unit and there was no need of shortening their supplies and overloading the canoes by taking any more. after a dinner aboard the hospitable _tarantula_ the boys dropped over the side into the _carrier dove_, which had lain sociably alongside the grim war-vessel while they were aboard, and with warm words of farewell from lieutenant selby and a cheer from the crew, among whom word of what was on foot had spread in some mysterious way, they started for the maze of islets and channels beyond which lay the mouth of the shark river. they anchored that night off a small island covered with a dense undergrowth that promised snakes and that there was at least one variety of reptile ready to receive them was evidenced when, as the _carrier dove's_ anchor rattled down into about twelve feet of water, a huge body slipped off the bank and slid into the water with a sullen splash. "an alligator!" cried the boys. "no, sah," rejoined pork chops, "dat dar ain't no 'gator, dat's a crokindile and where dey are dere's mischief." "are they more dangerous than alligators?" asked frank. "more dangerouser!" scornfully replied pork chops. "ah should jes' say dey is. 'gators--huh! they am big cowards, but crokindile he'll fight yer till his teef drap out--yes, sah, they's bad critters is crokindiles." "i'd like to get that fellow's skin though," said frank. the old darky scratched his head. "wall, sah," he said; "i ain't saying that dat's impossible. 'spose we try to git him by jacklight." "by jacklight?" exclaimed lathrop wonderingly. "i've read about that," replied frank, "it is supposed to be the most effective way of trapping these saurians. now as there isn't much to do before tomorrow, after we have unloaded our duffle and got it stowed in the canoes, we might as well have a little pot-hunt after supper." the boys enthusiastically agreed and the work of getting the duffle off the _carrier dove_ and into the canoes for transportation into the everglades went ahead with a will. by supper time the canoes which were to be occupied by frank and harry were completely loaded and there only remained the stowing of the few additional sections of the _golden eagle ii_ in the craft that were to be paddled and poled by billy barnes, lathrop and ben. supper over, old pork chops rigged a lantern up in the bow of one of the canoes and fitted a strip of canvas over it. "no use letting mister crokindile know what we're going to do till we git ready," he remarked as he hooded the light. as only one of the canoes could be used, the others being loaded down, it was agreed that frank and harry should occupy it with old pork chops and the others would watch the fun from the deck of the _carrier dove_. the spot where the _carrier dove_ lay was a sort of natural basin enclosed by the thickly grown islands all about. pork chops paddled almost noiselessly into about the center of the enclosed pool and then stopped. then came a dead silence for more than half an hour broken only by the occasional nightcry of some bird or creature of the jungle and the sharp clicks of the adventurers' rifles as they got them ready for action. suddenly the quiet was broken by a roar like that of an enraged bull. "heah he comes foh shuh," commented pork chops with his hand on the hood of his lantern. chapter xiv. close quarters with 'gators. the roar that had startled them was, as pork chops explained to the boys in a low undertone, the mating cry of the huge crocodile which was now probably on its way to the den in which they had surprised it earlier in the day. "are you all ready?" whispered harry to frank, as both boys distinctly heard the rushing noise made by the huge creature as it leisurely swam through the still water. frank grasped his rifle. harry already had his leveled, ready for use as soon as pork chops' jack lantern illuminated the quarry. they had not long to wait. "now, den, sah," cried pork chops as he raised the hood of the lantern and a ray of light shot out across the water. as if fascinated by the sudden illumination a great cruel head armed with rows of saber-like teeth suddenly flashed into view. "let him have it," shouted frank as both he and harry fired. there was a repetition of the roar as their bullets bored home but mingled with it was a loud shout from the _carrier dove_, that for the moment put all thoughts of the success or failure of their shots out of the boys' heads. the cry came from billy and it was sufficiently alarming considering that the water fairly swarmed with alligators and the more vicious crocodiles. "lathrop's overboard!" a thrill of horror shot through both boys as they heard the words. at frank's swift command the old negro switched the canoe round as if she been on a pivot and the next minute the ray of the jack lantern was sweeping the water in the direction of the _carrier dove_. lathrop, carried away by excitement as the boys' rifles had been discharged, had leaned far over the side of the sloop, hanging on by a frayed lanyard. this had parted under his weight and he was now struggling in the water. billy barnes and ben stubbs had thrown him ropes but the bewildered boy, half stunned by the shock of his sudden immersion, could not see them. he swam blindly about in the fetid water trying to grasp the side of the sloop. it was so dark, however, that partially dazed as he was he did not seem able to find it. when the ray of the jack lantern fell on his white dripping face he had about given up hope. "hold on, lathrop," shouted frank as, urged by pork chops' powerful strokes, the canoe shot toward the struggling boy. in their excitement all the occupants of the frail craft had quite forgotten about the big bull crocodile they had wounded. they were reminded of his presence in a startling fashion. without the slightest warning the canoe seemed to be propelled into the air as the powerful tail of the wounded saurian struck it, and the next minute its occupants were struggling in the water in as bad a fix as lathrop. both boys were powerful swimmers but both realized that all their skill would not avail to save them in the fix in which they found themselves. as for pork chops his terror was pitiable. "oh lawd! oh lawd! i didn't mean no harm when i stole ole aunt liza's white pullet," here he was half-choked by water. "oh lawd, git me out ob dis widout been all chawed up by crokindiles an' i won't never steal folks' fowls agin, lawd. o-o-o-o-oh!" he broke off with a yell of real terror. frank swimming toward the _carrier dove_ felt a huge body brush by him in the water and frantically stroked toward his goal. harry was safe, he could hear him breathing as he swam. but poor pork chops! the unfortunate black had given himself up for lost when there was a sudden blinding flash of light from the sloop and at the same minute two rifles cracked. the amazed boys, struggling in the water to gain the sloop, saw in the sudden white glare the reptile's black head with monstrous opened jaws suddenly checked in its rush on the apparently doomed pork chops as billy barnes and ben pumped the lead out of the rifles into the wounded crocodile's mate as fast as they could work them. the huge body swung clean out of the water in its death agony and fell back with a mighty splash. great clouds of awakened herons flew from the islets round about and the whole forest rang with the cries of aroused birds. ben stubbs had had the presence of mind to seize and ignite one of the signal flares and it was by its powerful light that they had saved the lives of pork chops and possibly of the boys. with the illumination afforded by the glare it didn't take long for the boys to get aboard the _carrier dove_ where lathrop in a very shamefaced way related how he came to tumble overboard. "it's all the fault of your rotten rigging," he said indignantly, looking at the dripping pork chops who was still so scared that he could hardly speak. the insult to his carrier dove, however, fired him with a righteous wrath. "what you all mean, marse lathrop, by saying dose unkindnesses 'bout dis yar ship of mine?" he sputtered indignantly. "i'd have you to understan' dat she's jes' as fine a craf' as der is on dis yer flahda coas', yes, sah." "i beg your pardon," laughed lathrop, who now that the danger was over had quite recovered his usual flow of spirits, "i didn't mean to insult you. however," he went on more gravely, "if it hadn't been for billy and ben here i doubt if any of us would have been alive now to even hurt your feelings." of course a great handshaking between the boys and their rescuers took place, and as for pork chops he swore that he would not leave the boys whom he hailed as his "sabyers." the original plan had been that he was to sail the _carrier dove_ back to miami as soon as the boys started into the 'glades, but he absolutely refused to hear of this now. "no, sah, you saved mah wuthless life, an' ah means ter stick ter yer jes' as long as mah laigs ul carry me," he declared. from this determination he could not be swayed and when they turned in that night it had been arranged that the old black was to accompany them, occupying a part of lathrop's canoe, and that the _carrier dove_ was to remain at anchor where she was;--at all events for a time. in that little frequented maze of keys and mangrove-grown shoals there was small likelihood of anybody finding her. the next morning all hands were astir early. it was a wonderful scene into the midst of which they had penetrated. through the confused huddle of keys and islets silver-clear channels threaded their way. in them thousands of fish--silvery tarpon, vampire-like devil-fish, big and little sharks, rushed and sported, eating and being eaten in turns. it was fascinating to watch the active submarine life going on about them. as for the birds, when the sun arose there were great clouds of them sailing across the sky or regarding the adventurers' preparations for abandoning the _carrier dove_ with the greatest interest. big snowy herons, green herons, rose-colored herons, blue herons, long-legged herons like soldiers on yellow stilts, stood about, sentinel-like on the oyster bars on which they found their daily food. ducks, coots and cormorants floated about on the placid waters almost as tame as the domestic varieties. overhead the sky was almost darkened at times by huge flocks of snowy ibises, their beautiful plumage flashing in the sun as they rose and fell in undulating waves. gannets, gulls and ospreys hovered about the great fishing grounds of the archipelago and high up in the sky, mere specks against the brilliant blue, sailed on serene pinions the men-of-war hawks and frigate-birds that haunt the everglades in vast numbers. immediately after breakfast the _carrier dove's_ hatch and cabin were locked and the start was made. frank and harry in their canoes led the way. billy barnes followed, his craft containing the wireless apparatus. the procession was taken up by ben stubbs while last of all came lathrop and old pork chops, in whose canoe was loaded the commissariat. frank and harry had most of the sections of the _golden eagle ii_ in their craft, as they wished to keep them under their immediate eye. all the boys felt a solemn feeling of responsibility--almost of loneliness--creep over them as, after frank had taken and carefully noted with sextant and horizon the exact bearing of the _carrier dove's_ anchorage, so that they could easily find her again, the start into the unknown began. "here's to the success of the chester relief expedition!" shouted billy barnes as after everything had been checked up and found complete the little band dipped their paddles into the water. the others started to cheer but a sharp order from frank checked them. "from now on," he ordered, "everybody must keep as quiet as possible. we do not know but that eyes and ears unknown to us are even now taking note of our every action." and so in silence, save for the steady dip-dip of their paddles the chester relief expedition glided through the wilderness of mangrove keys and blind channels always due east toward the heart of the everglades. chapter xv. an island mystery. it was an exhilarating sensation, this of being afloat on their own keels and gliding easily among sights so strange and new. on every yellow sand-spit alligators lay sunning themselves and slid into the water with lazy splashes as the expedition shot round points onto them. sometimes they didn't even trouble to do this but lay blinking at the canoes as much as to say: "hurry up by, and let us get to sleep again." "what if they should take it into their heads to attack us?" asked lathrop of pork chops. the boy's face paled as sometimes the old black, with deliberate defiance as it seemed, steered so close to the alligator bars that the boy could have put out a hand and touched the backs of the monsters. "don' you give ye'self no fuss 'bout dem 'gators 'tacking us, marse lathrop," the old man reassured him, "why, ef i het one ob dem varmints a slap wid dis yar paddle he'd skedaddle so quick yo couldn' see his trail for hurry--yes, sah." the first night's halt was made at a beautiful little island overgrown thickly with palmetto, bay, water-oak, wild-fig, mastic and other timber. through the amber water that surrounded it fish of a dozen varieties glided through the brilliantly colored water-grasses, that waved in as great luxuriance as the land-growth. while pork chops built a fire and busied himself with getting supper frank and harry sat apart and discussed their plans. they intended to select the first available place for the setting up of the _golden eagle ii_, and then do a little scouting by aeroplane. frank knew from report that scattered through the wilderness of the everglades there are numerous hammocks or small hills, in some cases quite considerable mounds, that would make ideal sites for a central camp. it was not much use speculating on any further method of procedure, however, till they were actually in the everglades. while the boys had been busying themselves in this way ben stubbs had taken a rifle and strolled off into the jungle in search of one of the wild turkeys whose loud "keouk-keouks" had apprised him that the bronze beauties were plentiful in the brush. lathrop and billy barnes went fishing with improvised hooks and lines made of stout thread from their toilet-bags. the two anglers were shouting with delight over a huge reddish colored fish that lathrop had hooked and drawn to shore, after a struggle in which it seemed that his line must part or he go overboard, when ben stubbs returned from his hunting expedition. he carried with him a fine big gobbler that must have weighed fully twenty pounds. while they were all gathered about the beautiful bird admiring the rich, coppery gloss of its feathers, lathrop, who had been busy disentangling his line from a low-growing bush, gave a sudden yell. "what's the matter?" shouted frank. the boy came running toward him. his face was white and he held out his right hand for their inspection. on the thumb were two tiny bluish punctures. there was no need to ask questions. the boy had got a snake bite. the question was,--had a poisonous reptile bitten him? lathrop, what with terror and pain from the fever that was coursing through his veins like molten lead, was too terror-stricken to answer frank's questions intelligibly. he finally described, however, a snake which they did not doubt was a rattler,--a diamond back,--one of the most deadly pests of the everglades. "the medicine chest quick, harry," ordered frank. the younger boy darted to the canoes and soon returned with the outfit labelled "for snake bites." with quick dexterity frank had rolled up lathrop's sleeve while harry was getting the remedies, and with a short stick had twisted a handkerchief above the bite so tightly that it was almost buried in the skin. this was to prevent the poison spreading up the arm. then, while lathrop winced with the pain but endured it bravely, frank slashed two deep cuts in his forearm which bled freely. from the snake-bite outfit frank rapidly selected some dark-red tablets of permanganate of potassium and rapidly dissolved them in water. by this time lathrop was in agony. his heart felt as if it was being gripped in a red-hot vise and he had great difficulty in breathing. a strange drowsiness crept over him. nothing seemed to matter if he could only sleep and forget the pain. "leave me alone," he panted to frank. "i guess i'd rather die." the young leader recognized the seriousness of these symptoms and worked with feverish haste. he fitted a needle onto a hypodermic syringe and seizing a fold of the stricken boy's skin between his thumb and forefinger he ran the needle almost up to its end in lathrop's arm--after having filled the squirt with the permanganate solution. then, wrapped in blankets, the boy was laid down, while frank and harry watched anxiously at his side. after an hour they breathed more freely as lathrop opened a pair of languid eyes and announced that the pain about his heart had moderated. the next morning he was still so weak, however, that to move him was manifestly impossible. the boys were in a quandary. they could not leave him and yet time was precious. they must press on. an unexpected solution to the problem was found when frank and harry, after spending half a day exploring the little key, announced that they had found a deserted plantation house on the northerly end of it, and that better than that even, there was a quite considerable clearing about the abandoned house that would make an excellent "take off" for the _golden eagle ii_. it was decided that night to go to work at once to put the aeroplane together right there and abandon the canoe expedition. the house that frank and harry had found had evidently been long deserted. it was built of clay daubed over plaited branches of the mastic tree and roofed with palmetto leaves. its door, a queer contrivance of twisted branches and palmetto leaves hung from broken hinges formed by loops of pliable twigs, bent round large crooked sticks set into the frame. all about it stretched a clearing in which apparently the former proprietor had carried on some sort of farming operations. but its condition showed that like the house it had been unused for many years. "who do you suppose could have built it?" asked harry as the boys gazed about them at the dismal scene of desolation and abandonment. "some fellow anxious to keep out of the way i should imagine," put in ben stubbs, who was already busy with a mattock clearing up a space of ground on which to begin operations,--for this conversation took place the morning following the boys' discovery of the hut and the clearing. "or maybe a sailor who was marooned here," put in billy barnes. "ah, that's more like it," commented ben. "now i come to think of it, pirates used to be thick in among these yere islands and depend upon it that this place was put up by one of them poor fellows as they had put ashore for some fancied offence or other." as if to confirm this theory it was not much later that billy, poking about the clearing, found way off in one corner, under a huge cabbage-palm, a board stuck at one end of a low mound, evidently a grave. billy's shout at once brought the others clustering about him, and after ben's knife had scraped away the mould and dirt with which the years had coated the head-board they read: "jem bristol,--a sailor of the walrus. died may 21, 1775. berried here by his ship matz." underneath in smaller letters was cut the inscription: "he was maruned here for five years been found by us as he was diing. the krew of the murmade." "poor fellow," exclaimed billy, "marooned here for five years, what a fate!" "i suppose that the walrus was some sort of a pirate ship?" asked harry. "yes, i think i remember reading somewhere that captain flint, a famous sea-rover, called his ship by that name," chimed in frank. "wall, them fellers from the mermaid, however they got here, done what they could for the fellow," commented ben stubbs. "just the same they only found him when it was too late to do anything for him but bury him," commented frank. it was a good morning's work transporting the packing cases containing the sections of the air-ship across the island and when it was completed all hands were glad to sit down and partake of a lunch of reef oysters, pilot bread, fried bacon washed down with tablet lemonade prepared by pork chops. lathrop was so far recovered as to be able to drink some oyster broth and after he had taken the nourishment he declared that he felt strong enough to be moved. the boys had reached the decision that it would be a good plan to transport the entire camp to the clearing and occupy the dead sailor's house as a more comfortable permanent camp than they could erect themselves. the rest of the day was devoted to putting this idea into execution and carrying lathrop, in a sort of stretcher made out of one of the canoe-tents and two long branches across the island. the canoes were then poled round the island to a little bay with a shelving beach that cut into the land opposite the new camp which by unanimous consent had been christened walrus camp. the little craft were dragged up to a point above tide-water, for the waters about the island were still tidal. that evening, when the lamp was lit and the mouldering house of the maroon neatly swept out and the boys' possessions all put in place, the young adventurers declared it was as comfortable a dwelling as one could find. as for pork chops, he was fairly delighted with the place. "dis am as framjous as any palace i ever did done see," he exclaimed, rubbing his hands in satisfaction. "what palaces have you ever seen?" asked frank quizzingly of the old man. pork chops, with a look of great superiority, replied: "ah's seen palaces an' palaces. moren' you could shak' a stick at," he replied indignantly. the exact location of pork chops' palaces and the eagerly demanded definition of the mysterious word "framjous" was indefinitely postponed by a startling occurrence at this juncture. ben stubbs, who had been sitting by the door almost keeled over. lathrop in his enfeebled condition set up a startled cry. even frank and harry turned a shade paler. as for billy his eyes almost popped out of his head. with a loud cry of "fo' de lawd's sake, spookses!" pork chops leaped from beside his stove, upsetting his pots with a loud crash. what had occurred was in fact sufficiently startling considering their lonely surroundings. somebody had knocked at the door. frank was the first to recover his senses. revolver in hand he dashed across the floor and flung the door wide open. eagerly his eyes searched the night but without result. there was nobody to be seen! chapter xvi. the boys make an acquisition. headed by ben stubbs with the lantern the young adventurers rushed after frank into the open, determined to ascertain if possible the meaning of the strange and startling interruption to their peaceful evening. it was in vain, however, that they searched for any indication of the presence of a human being. in the blackness it was indeed impossible to make more than a cursory examination of the surroundings of the hut. at daybreak, however, after a restless night, frank, who had risen as soon as the first gray of dawn made things dimly visible, uttered a cry of surprise from outside the hut. hastily flinging off their coverings and slipping into their clothes the others ran out. "look here," exclaimed frank, "what do you make of this?" he held up a small bottle in which was a bit of red flannel, a chicken feather, some rusty nails and several dried grasshoppers. "i found it put right to one side of the door sill," he explained. "how we missed finding it last night i don't know." "what can it mean?" chorused the other boys peering eagerly at the strange object. "looks as if some mischievous kid had put it there," suggested billy barnes. "i don't think there are likely to be any 'mischievous kids,' as you call them, about here, billy," said frank with a smile. "well, i give it up," said harry; "i never was much good at reading riddles." "just let me look at it a moment, shipmate," put in ben stubbs quietly. "i kinder think i have an inkling of what it means." he took the bottle and examined it carefully. then he nodded his head sagely. "it's some kind 'er voodoo for certain shu," exclaimed pork chops. "i wouldn't touch dat lilly bottle fo' all de money in dis yer worl'." "what did you say it was, pork chops, you inky pirate?" asked ben, turning on him. "lan' sakes, don' snap me up dat er way, marse stubbs," gasped the old negro, "i only said i wouldn' touch dat bottle. it's voodoo fo' shu'." "right you are, my boy," cried ben, "only it's not voodoo; but it's something very like it. it's obeah." "obeah!" exclaimed frank, "what on earth is that, ben?" "why, it's a form of witchcraft used by the ignorant negroes of the west indies and bahama islands," explained ben. "it's meant as a warning to any one on whose doorstep it is placed. in this case, as i take it, it means, 'don't come no further.'" "well," laughed frank, "it will take more than a bottle of dried bugs and old chicken feathers to make us turn back, and anyway, how comes a west indian negro here? if it was a seminole now----" "that's a puzzle to me too," remarked ben. "then seminoles don't use nothing like this that ever i heard of.--what's that?" he broke off suddenly. the cause of the interruption was a great fluttering of wings from the edge of the clearing and several herons flapped heavily out of the woods. "there's someone in there," cried frank. "right you are, my boy, and i propose that we put an end to this mystery business and find out who it is. volunteers for the job." of course everyone was anxious to penetrate the mysterious cause of the birds' flight, which they felt had something to do with the placing of the bottle and the tapping on the door, and a few minutes later, heavily armed and ready for any surprise that might be sprung on them, the little party sallied across the clearing and into the dark mass of forest. they had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile or so, and ben stubbs had remarked that they must have pretty well reached the limits of the island, when there was a great crashing of the dense undergrowth immediately in front of them and a human figure, bent almost double, was seen darting through the brush with the rapidity of a scared rabbit. "stop, or we'll fire," cried frank. but the figure kept on running. frank was in a quandary. of course he had not meant to carry out his intention and the fact that the man kept on running put him in an awkward position. they could not kill the man; yet if they did not fire he would escape from them and it was most essential they should capture and question him if it could be done. ben stubbs raised his rifle and leveled it. frank caught his arm and dragged it down. "none of that," he said sharply, "if we can't get him without shooting him we'll have to let him get away." ben laughed. "don't git excited, shipmate," he remarked coolly, "i was only going ter give him a scare. once more ben raised his rifle and just as the fugitive was vanishing from view sent a bullet whistling over his head that nicked off several twigs and sent them scattering in a shower on his neck. with a loud screech of terror the fleeing figure flopped down and groveled on the ground. "i'se a british subjec'." he yelled, "don't do me no harm, massa, i'm a subjec' of the king." "get up, you black rascal," roared ben, for by this time they had come up to the groveling figure and saw that he was even blacker than the redoubtable pork chops, who had run back to camp at top speed as soon as they had sighted the fugitive. "get up," he went on, "we are united statesers, and the king won't do you no good now. who are you and what do you want around our camp?" tremblingly the negro got to his feet. he was a strange figure. a palpable negro he yet wore the garb of a seminole indian. his shirt, with its tail flapping outside a pair of buckskin trousers, bright-colored turban, and buckskin moccasins were the customary clothes of the tribe. "well," said frank, as this nondescript figure stood facing them, beads of perspiration streaming down its face, "what have you got to say for yourself?" "snooping around and putting bottles of dessicated bugs on our front stoop," indignantly cried billy barnes. "i didn't mean no harm, massa, didn't really mean no harm at all. me berry good ole man. bahama nigger i am." "well, what are you doing here, then?" demanded ben. "don' shoot me, massa, an' i tell you eberyt'ing," sputtered the captive, terrified at ben's ferocious expression. put in more intelligible language than the bahama negro used his story was this: suspected unjustly some years before of having killed the captain of a sponging vessel of which he was one of the crew he had fled into the everglades to avoid lynching. he had fallen into the hands of a tribe of seminoles, off on an otter hunt, when he was almost famished and had been treated by them with kindness. in fact so well pleased had he been with his surroundings that he had taken a wife from the tribe and was now one of them. several days before the outposts had brought news of the approach of the adventurers into the interior and the seminoles had at once made preparations to turn them back. the bahaman, whose name, by the way, he confided was "quatty," was singled out as being the best spy they could send inasmuch as he could speak english and would understand the conversation of the strangers. he had landed on the island the afternoon before and when he saw that one of the party was a black conceived the idea of working "obeah" on him. he knew that if the darky was a west indian, which he suspected, he would really interpret the ominous nature of the sign. "but why are you so anxious to keep us out?" asked harry, "we mean no harm to you." "wall, dem ign'nant sabages," grandiloquently stated quatty, "has obtained de idea dat you is in some way connected wid some white men what came down in the 'glades tree months ago or so." the boys started eagerly. "some white men that came into the 'glades?" repeated frank. "yes, massa," said quatty, "dot's de bery meaning i intend to convey." "where are these white men?" demanded frank and harry in the same breath. "long way from here, far in de 'glades. dem sabages is werry much scairt of dem," went on quatty, "one time dey go near dere camp and some man he throw something make noise like de worl' he comin' to an en' and blow big hole in de groun'." "it must be the men we are after," exclaimed frank tensely. "and the stuff they threw was chapinite," added harry. "are they still here?" was frank's next question. he was keenly afraid of receiving a negative answer, and his voice almost trembled as he spoke. "yes, sah, dey's still here shu nuff," rejoined quatty. "we never go near dem since dat day, but all de time we see smoke and at night dere is red flames go up from de island where dey camp. we tink dey debbils for sho'." the boys were almost wild with excitement. even ben stubbs' face lit up at this unexpected good fortune. it meant that instead of wasting days seeking the abductors of lieutenant chapin and the stealers of the formula they would be able, if this bahama negro could guide them, to go direct to the spot after they had laid a plan of campaign. "could you guide us to this place, quatty?" asked frank. "wid de greates' of ease," replied the negro, quite proud of the impression he had produced, "but what fo' yo wan' to go dere?" without telling him too many details of their mission frank outlined their errand to him and, as it might be important to secure the co-operation of the seminoles, he told quatty to reassure them as to the object of the intrusion of the adventurers. after quatty had been given something substantial for his trouble, from frank's bill-roll, he dived into the forest with the promise to return that afternoon with the chief of the tribe. he was positive, he told the boys, that the tribe would have no objection to their presence in the everglades if they really meant to drive out the men who, as quatty put it, he and the tribe believed to be "debbils." the rest of the morning was spent in getting the field wireless and its lofty pole in position and joining the framework of the _golden eagle ii_. with such energy did the boys work that dinner-time was forgotten and by afternoon things had reached a stage where the ship was ready for her golden wing coverings to be laced on. the work of placing the engine and truing it up would have to be left to the next day, for even frank was not sanguine enough to believe that they could accomplish that difficult task by night or he would have ordered work to go on without a let up. true to his promise shortly before sundown quatty reappeared at walrus camp with a tall dignified-looking seminole dressed in the same manner as himself. the indian could not talk english but quatty acted as interpreter and the conversation went on swimmingly. the chief, whose name sounded like o-shi-ho-wi, agreed not to molest the boys if they pledged their words not to annoy the tribe or try to spy into their customs. this the boys readily agreed to and the chief then produced a pipe. after gravely taking a whiff he handed it to ben stubbs whom he regarded approvingly and ben in turn, after a puff or two, handed it to the boys. lathrop looked at it in disgust. "i can't smoke it," he said. "go on," said ben, "just a whiff will do. the injuns think that if you've smoked a pipe with them you won't break any promise you have made. if you won't you'll insult them." "well, if that's the case, all right," said lathrop, and, with a wry face, he took a pull at the pipe and then suffered a violent fit of coughing. the others in their turn took a whiff. the only ones who appeared to have any relish for it, however, were ben stubbs and pork chops, the latter of whom said patronizingly to quatty: "ah've got some good terbaccer in de hause, nigger, if yo' wan' to smoke somethin' better dan dese yar shavings." "ah consider dat berry good terbaccer, tank you, sah," replied quatty with dignity, "and ah'll tank you ter keep any cricketscisms to yo'sef." with a stately gesture the chief signified that negotiations were at an end as soon as the pipe-smoking had been concluded. he examined the framework of the _golden eagle ii_ with much interest. "huh-man-bird," was his comment, "canoe better. not so far to fall." there still remained one bit of business to be done and both frank and harry anticipated some little trouble over it--this was the retention of quatty as their guide to the 'glade islet on which the abductors had set up their plant. the chief consented to his being retained, but quatty himself was more doubtful. the promise of a canoe, however, as well as a good round sum of money decided him. he would go. but he wanted to know how the boys meant to get into the interior of the 'glades. from where they were at the moment it would take many days of threading intricate water lanes, he explained, to arrive at their destination. with a half smile at the explosion he knew was about due frank replied: "yes, but we don't mean to go by canoe. we shall travel by air." the negro turned an actual gray with perturbation. "no, sah," he exclaimed, "no, sah. yo won' go froo no air wid me. ah'm too fond of mah life to go skeedaddlin' round in de clouds in dat contraption." all the persuasions the boys could think of were of no avail. quatty obstinately refused to reconsider his determination not to go up in the air-ship. finally a happy thought struck frank. "get one of the rifles," he whispered to harry. the boy hastened into the hut and reappeared with a fine automatic. his own in fact. "now, quatty," commanded frank, "watch." he raised the rifle to his shoulder and pressing the trigger, fired the whole magazine. he reloaded it and handed it to the amazed negro. "now you try it," he said. a grin of huge delight spread over the black's face as the automatic weapon shot out its rain of lead. as for the chief he stood stock still, but a look of amazement spread over even his stolid countenance at the exhibition. "well, what do you think of it?" asked frank. "dat's de mostest wonderfulest gun i eber seed," confessed the darky. "it will be yours if you guide us to the island where the 'debbils' are," said frank. the old darky sighed. "ah get de money an' de canoe as well?" he said at last. "of course," said frank. "den, massa, i'se you man, fo' i nebber could resist a good gun, and," he added, as though he found consolation in the thought, "ef i break my neck yo breaks yohs too." chapter xvii. the everglades in an aeroplane. "hurray, we are in communication with the _tarantula_." it was frank who spoke. seated at the field wireless apparatus, with the metallic headpiece about his ears, he rapidly noted down the reply to the message he had flashed out some time previously. the message was signed: "selby," and read: "am standing by, off the coast. communication perfect. will keep in touch constantly." frank's message had been a brief outline of his plans, which were to sail in the _golden eagle ii_ that afternoon if feasible, and ascertain the exact location of the camp of the formula stealers, and leave the rest of the plan of procedure to such circumstances as might arise. feverishly working, the boys and their aides got the _golden eagle ii_ in shape for flight by noon of that day. thanks to the specially prepared engine-bed that the boys had had constructed, there was little to do except to bolt the driving machinery in place, after which but little adjustment was necessary to true it up with the shafts. while harry and lathrop took up positions at the propellers and the rest of the party hung onto the winged ship with might and main, frank carefully adjusted the engine, having timed it down to its lowest number of revolutions. "now," he cried when all was ready. the boys gave the propellers a twist. to their delight the engine worked as smoothly as a sewing machine. the power was then cut off and the work of stocking up the lockers beneath the transoms in the pilot-house begun. it was frank's intention that if it became necessary to settle down anywhere for any length of time to use the pilot-house as a camping place. this would save the necessity of a tent and as every ounce of weight counts in an aeroplane this was an important consideration. the canvas screens--of the lightest grade of duck carefully waterproofed--which have been previously mentioned were provided for this very purpose as were also mosquito net curtains for fine weather. frank's navigating instruments found their place in a pocket handy to the steersman's hand. the compass of course being adjusted in a balanced socket that kept it always visible to the helmsman. the operating keys of the _golden eagle ii's_ wireless apparatus were in the rear of the chassis and in the space beneath its stand was coiled the five hundred feet of rope through which ran a strand of phosphor bronze wire which was to be used for grounding the current. alongside the reserve gasolene found its place. the searchlight, swinging easily on a pivot, was also of course a part of the helmsman's equipment, and handy to him was slung his revolver in a big loose holster. the rifles and ammunition and the stock of provisions carried went in the lockers, as well as a waterproof sod-cloth to place beneath the chassis if camping on wet ground, and a small blue-flame oil-stove made of aluminum. the few cooking utensils carried were also of aluminum and nested. the last thing to go aboard was a folding canvas boat of which more later. all these preparations concluded, the boys partook of the last dinner they were to eat in company for perhaps several days. over the meal, which pork chops had made quite an elaborate one in celebration of the occasion, final plans were discussed. lathrop was to have charge of the wireless apparatus and at all hours of the day or night either he, ben stubbs or billy barnes was to be on duty beside it on the watch for calls. the boys would also, it was agreed, watch their apparatus constantly. frank's ingenuity had provided each machine with an appliance, not unlike the ordinary telephone bell, which commenced ringing loudly as soon as any other instrument within range got "in tune." this was a patentable improvement, as an ordinary wireless machine has no such convenient attachment and only apprises its operator of a call by a faint click hardly audible to the unpracticed ear. after lunch the boys went over every rod and wire of the aeroplane and found her to be in first class shape. while these preparations were going on quatty had been eyeing the craft with the liveliest indications of fear. "ah'd jes' as soon ride on de back ob a fish eagle," he said apprehensively. "why, quatty, you're not going to back out now, are you?" asked frank with a smile at the negro's trepidation. "lord, no, massa frank, ah said ah'd go wid yo' an' i will, but ef it wasn' fo' dat rifle i wouldn' go not fo' nuffin'. say," he added suddenly, "could ye jes' wait a while till i paddle home an' say goo'-bye to my wife?" "no, we can't," laughed frank, ruthlessly cutting short the black's hope of even a moment's reprieve from going aloft in the object of his terror. "are we all ready, harry?" he asked the next minute. the younger boy nodded. "hold on a minute," cried frank suddenly, "there is one thing we've forgotten." he ran back into the hut and reappeared with a small object he had fished out of his toilet-bag. it was a silken american flag. the boys attached it to a small pair of halyards at the stern of the chassis and ran it up. "come on in with you, quatty," cried harry, when this was completed. speechless with terror the negro hobbled up to the machine and hesitatingly clambered into the chassis. he sat quivering like a jelly on the floor of the pilot-house as the boys followed him. "what are you squatting on the floor for?" asked harry, laughing, "don't you want to see the scenery?" "ah can see all ah wan' right yar," was the terrified darky's reply. with a final handclasp the boys followed the negro into the chassis and harry took up his place at the engines and frank got into the steerman's narrow seat. lathrop and billy barnes were at the propellers ready to give them the twist that would start the machinery. "let her go," cried frank with a backward glance. harry bent low over the carburettor and carefully adjusted it and the lubricating system. the next minute, with a roar like that of a dozen gatling guns, the engine started up. volumes of blue smoke poured from the exhaust which also shot out jets of ruddy flame. to anyone not used to the racket of a powerful engine suddenly turned up to its full power it was actually terrifying. quatty writhed in a paroxysm of terror on the quivering floor of the pilot-house as the whole fabric of the aeroplane shook as if it had been convulsed by an earthquake. like a big ungainly bird it ran rapidly over the ground for a few dozen yards and then as it gathered speed under its rapidly revolving propellers, frank threw in the top speed clutch and jerked back the lever that controlled the rising planes. like a perfectly trained animal the big air-craft obeyed and rose as gracefully as a butterfly into the air. for fully ten minutes, till they were clear of the tree-tops, frank kept her rising--the terrified quatty rolling about on the inclined floor of the pilot-house like a rubber ball. then as she soared safely above all obstructions he threw her onto an even keel and headed her due east. far below them harry, leaning over the stern, could see the small clearing in which stood the dead sailor's habitation and the rapidly diminishing figures of lathrop, billy, ben, and pork chops waving a frantic adieu. the darky had in his hand a frying-pan which he flourished and was evidently shouting, for he had his hand at his lips, but of course anything he might have said was at that height inaudible. once on an even keel frank threw in the mufflers and throttled the engine down a little so that the uproar that had so terrified quatty was diminished. occasionally as she struck some contrary air-current the aeroplane would give a dip that terrified the negro into fresh convulsions, but otherwise the really alarming sensation that accompanies the rising into the upper air of an aeroplane had ceased and they were driving ahead calmly enough, though not fast, for there was a stiff northeast wind blowing. "well, quatty, what do you think of it as far as you've gone?" jestingly asked harry as, having adjusted his engines to suit him he sat wiping his hands on a bit of greasy waste. "ah's jes' as soon ride on a buckin' broncho as on dis yar contraption," rejoined quatty, who had by this time scrambled to his hands and knees, "it's eben worser dan i thought." a diplomatic idea entered harry's head. they would have to get quatty over his scare before he would be of any use to them and this necessity gave rise to harry's inspiration. "well, i think you are a very brave man, quatty," he said solemnly; "that pork chops is such a coward that he wouldn't dare to do what you've done." [illustration: the boy aviators set out in the _golden eagle ii_.] "is dat so, massa harry, fo' a fac'?" asked quatty eagerly. "yes indeed," went on harry seriously, "he's such a coward that he would have fainted if we had even suggested coming up with us to him." "well, i'se a berry brave nigger and dat's a fac'," proudly said quatty rising to the bait, "them no 'count southern niggers ain't got no real courage no-how." so well did harry's diplomatic admiration work that before they had been afloat in the upper air for half an hour more quatty was seated on one of the transoms holding onto a strap provided for the purpose and piloting frank as the ship forged steadily along into the wind, her engine running without a skip or a start. it was a marvelous panorama that lay spread out far below them. their bird's-eye view showed them immediately beneath the floating craft the myriad green-clad islands of the archipelago threaded by bands of sparkling blue water. soaring in the air about them, but at a respectful distance, and doubtless marveling at the invader of their realm, were kitty-hawks and fish-eagles and sometimes even the rare everglade kite. if it had not been for the speed they were going nothing would have pleased harry better than to get out a rifle and try a little target practice at the myriad bird-life that soared beneath and around them. but it was not so much the immediate scene, beautiful as it was, that gripped the attention of the voyagers. far in front of them lay a broad, dark band of trees that they knew marked the mainland and was the thick belt of cypress trees that gives its name to the big cypress swamp. beyond this again lay a scene that made their hearts beat high. it was a vast, an apparently illimitable stretch of brown prairie, looking from that distance very much like our western plains viewed from a mountain top. in the golden glow of the afternoon it shimmered and shone hazily like a magic land. here and there patches of dark cloud-like blue dotted it and these the boys knew were the islands that are scattered at more or less frequent intervals among the watery wastes of the 'glades and on one of which, with a catch of the heart, they realized lay the object of their long quest. chapter xviii. a night alarm. quatty, quite recovered now from his first terror, and almost aggressive in his newly-found courage, sat by frank's side directing him as well as he could for, as he explained, he would not be able to get his bearings till they had passed the cypress belt and were above the everglades themselves. every now and again, however, he would give the young captain a steering direction. "a bit mo' eas' by sout'," or "hold a bit to de sout' sout' eas', massa." "what are we making, frank, do you estimate?" inquired harry, as the ship rushed through the air. "about ten miles," rejoined the other, "the wind is dead against us." "not as fast as a subway express, but doing pretty well," was harry's comment. the young engineer was, however, most of the time as engrossed with his engines as was frank with the steering apparatus. from time to time he ran his hand carefully over them to see if the condenser was doing its cooling work properly. the lubricating gear also received his careful attention. a heated bearing would have meant a serious accident if not disaster and harry was too old an aeronaut despite his youthful years not to pay the closest attention to one of the most important features of a gasolene engine. "it seems to me that we had better make camp for the night in the cypress belt if possible and make an early start over the 'glades themselves to-morrow," said frank, as the dark line of trees grew gradually nearer and the boys saw that they formed a thick belt in some places several miles across. "yes, if we find a landing-place," rejoined harry. "how about that, quatty?" questioned frank, "are there any smooth spots clear of trees in the swamp?" "oh, berry plenty, massa," replied the negro. "i fin' you nice lilly campin' place we get near dem." like a big hawk about to pounce the _golden eagle ii_ was hovering about an hour before sundown above the tops of the dark cypresses in search of a suitable spot to swoop down. after frank had manoeuvred her in widening circles through the air for perhaps half an hour they at last were above a large clearing a mile or more in diameter and which was quite clear of trees. "injun make um long time ago, maybe three, four thousan' years," explained quatty in answer to the boys' questions. "three or four hundred, more likely," laughed frank. "or three or four," added harry. "berry well, massas," said quatty, highly offended, "i 'spose ah don' know nuffin' but what an ig'nant sabage knows." to make a landing frank swung the aeroplane in a long descending arc till he was a few feet above the tops of the outermost of the trees that fringed the clearing then he raised the planes slightly and the _golden eagle ii_ glided to the earth in a long, slow sweep. the engines had of course been cut out as the descent began and she settled as easily as a bird alighting. with mosquito netting brought for the purpose the sides of the pilot-house were at once enclosed, for although it was still daylight, the tiny pests that make life miserable on the edges of the 'glades had begun to appear in armies. strange to say, in the 'glades themselves there are hardly any mosquitoes, but on its borders they swarm in great numbers. quatty built a smudge of green wood and leaves before he set about getting supper and in this way the worst of the visitation was alleviated. the boys watched with some interest while quatty built his fire. he had lived so long with the seminoles that he built it in the way the indians have adopted from time immemorial. first he made a big ring of dry sticks and twigs, the largest on the outside and the small dry ones in the center. he lighted it in the center with his old flint and steel and then having made a rack out of a stick of green wood, placed across two forked upright ones, he pushed the larger timbers from the outside to the center as occasion required. after a hearty meal of stewed preserved meat made into a delectable stew with dessicated vegetables and canned corn, followed by stewed evaporated fruit washed down by boiling tea, the boys and quatty retired to the mosquito-barred pilot-house of the _golden eagle ii_, where quatty lighted his pipe "jes' ter plague dem mosquitoes outside," he explained, and the boys talked over future plans. after a short time, however, weariness after the energetic day they had put in completely overcame them and they stretched out on the transoms. in a few minutes sleep closed their eyes and the only sound that disturbed the deep silence in the cypress belt was the loud snoring of quatty and the rhythmical croaking of the frogs and tree lizards in the swamp. toward midnight frank could not judge how long he had been asleep, it seemed to him five minutes, as a matter of fact it was as many hours, when he was awakened with a start to hear a stealthy tread a few feet away from the aeroplane. "who's there?" he shouted. the minute his voice rang out the footsteps retreated as stealthily as they had approached. in this lonely untraveled spot who could it be? the boy awakened his brother and quatty and cautioning them to silence whispered them his alarming intelligence. each boy grabbed his rifle and prepared to defend the _golden eagle ii_ with all their power. as for that arrant coward quatty, all his recent bravado quite gone, he could only tremble and whimper in terror. "what do you suppose it is, frank?" whispered harry. "i wish i knew," replied the other. "do you think it's indians?" was harry's next question. "it might be," replied frank, "but i'm afraid that it's worse than that." "what do you mean?" inquired harry in the same low tone of voice. "that the men we are in pursuit of have got some inkling of our purpose and are even now lurking about here to wreck the aeroplane and perhaps kill us." the prospect was certainly an alarming one. if frank's idea was correct they were powerless. it was unlikely that their enemies would be less than half a dozen and perhaps more. brave as they were the two boys realized that they could do little against such overwhelming numbers and quatty was worse than useless. "here he comes again," cried frank in a tense whisper as after several minutes of silence the boys sat gripping their rifles. sure enough the slow, heavy tread was again advancing. it was too dark in the shadows of the mighty cypress trees to see anything and the boys could only judge of the enemy's whereabouts by the sound. after advancing quite close to the aeroplane the steps ceased and the boys could distinctly hear a low, steady breathing. "i can't stand this any longer," whispered frank. "i'm going to fire." aiming directly at the sound frank pulled the trigger. as the report crashed among the trees a roar of pain filled the air and a crashing sound as if a body had fallen was heard. "what on earth is it?" gasped harry, as the roar was followed by whines and yells of pain and a sound as if a big carcass was lashing about on the ground. it was quatty who solved the mystery. "why, dat's a panfer," he cried, "ah knowed all along 'twern't nuffin' but dat." "get the lantern," ordered frank, curtly, "and we'll see what it is." [illustration: frank shoots a panther.] "yes, massa," sputtered the negro awed by the boy's sharp tone. he lit the lamp in silence and the boys sallied out. it was as quatty had said. on the ground near their camp-fire lay the animal still writhing. frank put it out of its agony with a shot through the head and then the boys bent over their prize, examining admiringly its tawny skin and great shapely head. "see, massa, quatty was right. nuffin' to get scared of. nuffin' but an ole panfer." "did you think it was 'nuffin' but a panfer' ten minutes ago?" asked frank. "wall, no, massa," replied the darky, somewhat abashed; "but ah 'spected it right along. yes, sah, ah mus' say ah 'spected 'twan't nuffin' but dat." by this time the sky to the east across the everglades was beginning to grow gray and as none of the party felt any more inclination to sleep, quatty was set to work to skin the panther; after which frank and harry sauntered into the woods with the shotguns. so good was their success that they managed to bag three brace of doves which broiled with strips of bacon formed a very agreeable addition to the oatmeal, pilot-bread and coffee on which they had intended making their morning meal. even before they had despatched their breakfast the sun had risen and illuminated the vast brown levels of the 'glades, which now lay directly before them. the sky was specked with kites and vultures attracted by the carcass of the panther. "dey won't even leab' any pickins ob him," said quatty, motioning up at the soaring carrion birds, "'specs dey finks we pretty good folks to gib dem brakfus' as well as ourselves." breakfast despatched and the engine fed with fresh lubricant and the gasolene and condenser tanks filled with additional fuel and water the young adventurers were ready to take up what they felt was to be the most important stage of their journey thus far. the machine was hauled back from the part of the glade where it had alighted to the extreme far side so as to give it all the room possible to rise in. there being no one to turn the propellers the boys utilized their self-starting apparatus. this consisted of a handle attached to a cogged wheel which operated a chain which in turn revolved another cogged wheel connected to both shafts. this of course acted in exactly the same way as if some one had twisted the propellers, but it required more elbow grease. after a couple of revolutions the engine started up and with a quick all-seeing glance fore and aft frank threw in the clutch. the _golden eagle ii_ started as easily as she had the day before and took the air after about fifty yards' run. a serious accident, however, was narrowly averted as she cleared the tree-tops. quatty, arrogant in the fact that he no longer feared the riding in an aeroplane, was standing carelessly on the inclined floor as the craft rose. a sudden jerk as she bucked an uprising current almost threw him from his feet and he made a grab for the first thing he could catch hold of, which was a starboard rudder wire. under the tug of the stumbling negro's hand the rudder was of course pulled over and the ship gave a dizzy swoop. harry at the engine was thrown right across the pilot-house and frank thought for a minute that they had gone. with a swift glance he saw what had happened. reaching back he caught the luckless quatty a blow under the jaw that laid him flat and effectually loosened his hold on the tiller-wire. swift as thought the young captain skilfully righted her but not before her port wing-tip had grazed the topmost foliage of one of the loftier cypresses. when they were once more safe frank spoke: "in future, quatty," he said, "you will lie flat on the floor when we are going up." chapter xix. on the mound-builders' island. his high spirits considerably dashed by his misadventure, quatty sat soberly enough on the transom till frank ordered him forward to give the young captain sailing directions. they were now racing through the air above the everglades themselves. everywhere below them spread the yellowish brown expanse of saw-grass and water-course with here and there a clump of cabbage-palms marking an occasional dry spot. far on the horizon, like a blue cloud, rested the nearest of the islets on one of which lay their goal. beyond it like other cloud fragments, lay dim in the distance other patches of elevated land. save for the bird-life they could see about them there was no signs of animate existence beneath the aeroplane. not even a canoe threaded any of the numerous water-courses that spread like a net over the 'glades. a more doleful scene could hardly be imagined. "how did these men ever find their way to the interior?" wondered frank. "dey must have had a guide, massa," replied quatty promptly, "nobody dat don' know de 'glades can find him way in dem." "where could they get such a guide?" questioned frank. "plenty ob dem," replied quatty, "plenty ob injuns take 'em whereber dey want." "but you said your tribe was opposed to them?" objected harry. "don' know nuffin' 'bout 'suppose to dem,' massa harry; but dere ubber tribes in de 'glades dan ours. some ob dem don' lak us neider." "then you think they secured guides from some other tribe?" asked frank. "mus' ab," rejoined quatty, "none of my fren's would guide dem." the nearest island rapidly assumed shape and resolved itself into a charming bower of tropical vegetation rising at its highest point about forty or fifty feet above the monotonous level of the 'glades as it grew nearer the boys were astonished to see that its summit was bare of trees and formed a plateau of some area which was flat as the top of a table. it was as if some giant had lopped off the top of it with a huge knife. "that's very extraordinary," said frank, as they gazed at it, "one would almost say that it had been formed artificially." the air-ship circled about the islet under frank's skilled control while the youthful aerial navigators scanned it with eager eyes. they could now plainly perceive that in the center of the flat top a sort of altar, about seven feet long by four feet high, had been erected. "a sacrificial altar of some ancient tribe," cried harry. "i'm not so sure," replied frank as the _golden eagle ii_ heeling over, circled slowly about the object of their mystification. "what do you know about this, quatty?" he asked. "quatty thinks him used by injuns to make smoke signals," said the old negro scanning the altar narrowly. "when an injun he wants to signal he builds a fire on dere and den makes de smoke rise or fade away by covering it wid a green branch," he further explained. "that is undoubtedly the correct explanation," said frank, "of course there was an ancient race of mound-builders in florida and this may be one of their mounds, but i have never read that they had any sacrificial rites. as quatty says, the seminoles must have used this old mound-builders' hill, which the aborigines may have utilized as a fort, or as a convenient place for signaling from." he headed the aeroplane on her course again after this explanation and the adventurers had proceeded perhaps a mile through the air when quatty who, with his hand shading his eyes, had been searching the horizon, suddenly cried: "hol' on der, massa frank." "what's the matter?" asked the boy. "see dar. ef dat ain't smoke 'way off dere call me an ignerent sabage!" he pointed to a small islet a couple of points to the southward of the course on which they were heading. the boys' gaze followed his pointing finger. their eyes, not so keen as the wilderness dweller's, however, could perceive nothing but a small blue eminence of land not in any way different from several other similar ones dotted along the horizon. "don' you see smoke ober dere?" asked quatty, wonderingly. "no," cried both boys. "lordy, lordy, you eyes are dim as bats' fo' sho'." cried the negro shaking his head. frank reached into the pocket in which the glasses were kept. with their powerful lenses he swept the horizon. he confirmed the correctness of quatty's eyesight the next minute. from the nebulous mass,--which seen through the glasses proved to be an islet very like the one over which they had just passed--a column of smoke was certainly rising. "it may be indians," said harry, after he too had taken a long look. "injuns," snorted old quatty, "dems no injuns. dat ain't de color ob injuns' smoke. ah knows whar ah is now ah do--dat's de place where dose men you come all dis way ter look foh makes de debbil stuff dat blows de holes in de ground." a hasty consultation between the boys followed. at the distance they then were from the islet it was unlikely that their presence in the air had been noted. it would be useless to keep on in broad daylight as their usefulness might end as soon as the plotters discovered their presence and knew their plant had been discovered. on all accounts it seemed best to camp on the mound-builders' island for the night and wireless to camp walrus their views. accordingly the aeroplane was put about and a short time after was resting on the summit of the mound-builders' hill. the boys were far from satisfied with the location but there was no other available landing-place and they decided to run the risk of being sighted before dark. the wireless apparatus was at once put in order for the transmission of messages and frank started to call camp walrus. again and again the spark leaped crackling across the gap,--transmitting the call of c-w, c-w, c-w,--before an answer came. everything, it seemed, was going on well at the camp and they had heard that morning from the _tarantula_. the destroyer was cruising about the archipelago awaiting news of the success or failure of the boys' expedition and frank, as he was doubtful of being able to "pick up" the vessel at the distance inland they then were, asked lathrop to transmit to lieutenant selby the news that they had discovered the hiding-place of the plotters and would inform him of their next move when they made it. the instrument was then cut out and the usual preparations for making camp gone about, with quatty's assistance. this done the boys, guns in hand, started to explore the mound on which they found themselves. a steep path, apparently well trodden once but now overgrown with creepers and weeds, led to its base. there was nothing else remarkable about it, except, as has been said, its bald summit. it swarmed with game, however, and several doves, quail and rabbits fell to the boys' guns during the afternoon. quatty cooked the game deliciously in an oven of his own invention. he first dug a hole which he lined with stones, heated almost red hot in a fire previously prepared. this done he lined it again with green stuff and covered the whole with leaves and branches. then he covered in the entire oven with more leaves and tapped them off with earth at the top to enable it to retain the heat. "now we leab ole muvver erf to do our cookin'," he remarked when he had completed these preparations. the next task to occupy the boys' attention was the setting up of the canvas boat. the craft was a large pea-pod shaped pocket of the strongest grade of brown duck, which was stretched into boat form by steel spreaders and held rigidly in shape by locking clamps. it was a boat eminently fitted to navigate the everglades, where there are no sharp rocks or rapid waters to be encountered, though hardly suited for more strenuous work. it was about twenty feet in length and capable of carrying five hundred pounds. the boys carried the compact bundle in which it was packed to the water's edge and put it together there. when afloat on the water it looked not unlike a big, brown pumpkin seed. "now where's de poles?" asked quatty, looking about him. "poles? what for? we've got paddles for it," said harry. "paddles not much good in de 'glades, massa harry," replied quatty, "we need poles to git ober de groun'." after some hunting among the dense undergrowth quatty finally found two straight sticks of tough second growth timber, about fifteen feet long, that satisfied him. he cut these off with his heavy sailor's knife with the remark: "soon we hab two berry good canoe poles." he whittled both sticks to a sharp point at one end and then cut two triangular bits of wood from another tree which he affixed with vine lashings to the poles about six inches from the bottom. the contrivance was exactly like the steps that are affixed to stilts but there were two of them. "what are you putting those on for?" asked the boys. "plenty ob mud in de 'glades sometimes," replied quatty, "dese lilly steps keeps de poles from diggin' in too deep." "well, quatty, you are a genius," exclaimed frank. "oh dese not my inwention, massa frank," modestly confessed quatty. "seminoles use him many, many years befo' quatty come here." the boys had decided on a daring plan. it was nothing less than, as soon as the night fell, to pole and paddle their way through the water-courses till they reached a spot near the camp of the kidnappers of lieutenant chapin and there reconnoiter and, if possible, overhear enough to give them a clue to the lieutenant's whereabouts. their first object being of course to rescue him. the recovery of the formula of his invention was--though important in the extreme--a secondary consideration. after a hasty supper everything about the camp was put in order and with their revolvers freshly oiled and plenty of ammunition in their pockets the adventurers descended by the mound-builders' path to where they had moored the canvas boat. quatty accompanied them. he put on a great assumption of bravery but inwardly he was quaking till his teeth chattered. still he decided in his own mind he would rather a thousand times accompany the boys--however dangerous their errand--than spend the night alone in a spot which he firmly believed was haunted by the ghosts of the ancient tribesmen who had erected it. the last thing frank did before leaving was to call up camp walrus on the wireless. he bade his young friends and companions there a hearty "good-bye" and received their aerial "good-luck." as the night noises of the jungle began to arise, and the evening chill of the 'glades crept over the lower levels like a cold pall, the boys shoved off and under quatty's guidance began to pole toward the southeast. chapter xx. captain bellman's island. silently, as some craft propelled by spirits, they glided along between the high walls of saw-grass that grew up on each side of the stream they were navigating. quatty stood in the stern manipulating the pole with the skill of a very seminole, and sending the light craft through the water at a surprising rate of speed. his elevated position gave him a chance to peer over the tops of the lower clumps of saw-grass and judge--by their glitter under the starlight--which leads were the best to follow. it was pitchy dark, with the exception of the dim starlight, and to the boys it seemed that they were passing through an endless tunnel. they threaded in and out of creeks till it seemed that they must be progressing in a circle. but quatty, whatever his other faults might be, knew the everglades as a city dweller knows his own streets, and by the darker landmarks of various hammocks and islets he steered the craft as unerringly as a cab-driver who wishes to drive in a certain direction. occasionally as they brushed against a sunken log, or shoal of rank-smelling mud, there would be a heavy flop in the water or a rustling sound in the dry grass. "whatever is that, quatty?" asked harry after the sound had been several times repeated. "moccasins. dey bite you, you die plenty quick," responded quatty. harry, who had been trailing his hand in the water, quickly drew it in, not without a shudder. he had seen cotton-mouth moccasins before and had a lively recollection of the fat, dirty colored reptiles and their deadly fangs. once, as they were crossing quite a broad sheet of water that suddenly opened out about them, something bumped up under the boat with such violence that quatty was almost upset from his position astern. "good gracious, was that an earthquake?" exclaimed harry much alarmed. "'gator," grunted quatty, "ah'd jes like to stop an' git his ugly hide fo' dat." "there'll be no shooting to-night, let's hope," was frank's reply. they poled along in silence after this. the boys were completely bewildered and had no more idea of where they were going than if they had been blindfolded. but quatty never stopped poling and fell to his work with such an air of certainty that the boys were compelled to conclude that he knew what he was about. suddenly the negro uttered a sharp grunt. "what is it?" asked frank instantly. "look ober dere, massa, an' tell me wad you see," said quatty, pointing dead ahead. at the risk of upsetting the boat and himself frank stood up and saw reflected on the sky, not more than a mile ahead, a deep-red glow. "fire," he exclaimed. "yes, an' it's de furnaces dem debbils has built dere fo' make dere blow up stuff, drat 'em," was quatty's response. they were then at last within sighting distance of the mysterious forces that had succeeded in filching the formula of the united states' most deadly explosive and kidnapping one of the bravest and most popular young officers in the navy. "pole ahead, till i tell you to stop," commanded frank, resuming his seat. "w-w-w-what," stuttered quatty, "yo' goin' on, marse frank?" "certainly," was the quiet reply. "b-b-b-but we may git shot or blowed up wid de debbil powder," protested the frightened black. "you will certainly get shot if you don't obey commands," was frank's stern rejoinder, "pole ahead!" something in the young leader's voice, decided quatty that it was best to obey and with chattering teeth he started the canoe moving nearer and nearer to the red glow. as they approached its source, the light it cast grew brighter and the boys were enabled to see each other's faces. "stop," commanded frank suddenly. quatty breathed a sigh of relief. perhaps now they were going to go back. but no. after a few seconds' reconnoitering, frank gave the order to go ahead and the trembling quatty, with his eyes on the boys gleaming revolver, obeyed. frank stood up in the boat when he took his brief survey without much fear of being seen by the men on the island, as in the bright light shed by the furnaces with which they were manufacturing the explosive they would hardly be able to penetrate the surrounding blackness. what he had seen was this: a large barn-like building erected against the side of a hill surrounded by smaller huts and out in the open, removed at some distance from the other buildings, a large, retort-shaped blast furnace, from the mouth of which was pouring a column of copper-colored flame and a great efflorescence of sparks. it was this furnace doubtless that had caused the column of smoke they had seen during the day. in the bright light cast by the flaming mouth of the retort he could see dark figures scurrying around, some of them with wheelbarrows which they pushed up an inclined plane leading to the side of the retort. from their barrows they constantly dumped something into the furnace. what it could be of course frank had no means of knowing, but he guessed that it was some substance used in the manufacture of chapinite. the whole scene reminded frank of one of the foundries in the iron district, seen from a car window at night. with the aid of the night-glasses he could make out details more plainly. the workmen were being urged to even greater activity by a tall man who was evidently in authority. from time to time this man raised a whip he held in his hand and brought its lash down viciously on the back of some unfortunate worker with a crack that was audible even at the distance the boys were. "oh lawd, dat look like hades for sho'!" groaned quatty as his eyes almost popped out of his head at the weird scene. "dem not men, massa frank, dems all debbils." "pole her along a bit!" ordered frank, not paying any attention to this outburst. he was bent on getting near enough to ascertain, if possible, if the unfortunate lieutenant chapin was one of the crew of laborers. with frequent orders to stop from frank which were obeyed by quatty with alacrity and commands to proceed once more, which did not meet with the same eager response, the boat drew nearer and nearer to the blazing retort and the frenzied workers. as they were still in between high banks of saw-grass the boys had no fear of being seen unless of course some canoe from the island happened to come down the stream they were threading. as it was a narrow twisting, little runnel, however, with barely a foot of water under their keel, this did not seem likely. all at once, however, they emerged without warning into a broad smooth-flowing channel worthy of the name of a river. the boys saw at once that this was indeed a main-traveled water-course and most probably the one used by the men on the island in getting to and from the coast. "get back where we were as quick as you can," sharply ordered frank as they glided out onto its broad current. with a dexterous twist quatty--quite as much alarmed as the boys at the prospect of discovery by the workers on the island--shot the boat back into the narrow grass-walled creek they had been traversing. it was well they had done so, for hardly had they gained the welcome shelter of the tall saw-grass when they heard the rapid "dip-dip" of paddles coming toward them down the main channel. "keep perfectly quiet," ordered frank, and scarcely breathing the boys listened with straining ears to catch the conversation the men in the approaching craft were carrying on. "hurry there, you miserable indian, or i'll fill you full of lead," were the first words they heard in a harsh, rough voice. the command was evidently addressed to the indian paddler for they heard the reply: "all right. me hurry all i can," and a quicker dip of the paddle. "you're a rough fellow, my dear scudder," another voice commented, "are you never in a softer mood?" "not me, foyashi;" came the reply, "and if you'd been working for captain mortimer bellman as long as i have you wouldn't be either. he learned his lesson in your government i suppose." "captain bellman is a remarkable man." went on the other speaker, whose accent was distinctly foreign and mincing. "remarkable? you may lay your head on that," replied the other; "nobody but a remarkable man would have got chapin to visit him in his hotel and there drug him and get from him the keys of the safe where the formula was kept." "how did he induce him to visit him?" asked foyashi. "why, they were classmates at annapolis before bellman was kicked out of the navy for conduct unbecoming an officer. chapin's a good-hearted chap and when bellman turned up in washington one day and sent him a message that he was ill and in trouble chapin came to the hotel like a bird dog when you whistle it to heel. but you deserve a lot of credit for your part of the business, foyashi," he went on. "how did you get the lieutenant under your control. he swore he'd die before he told us the method of making chapinite when we first got him aboard the mist." "ha, ha!" laughed the man, addressed as foyashi, "to the jiu jitsu expert many nerves are common knowledge that you foolish americans do not know anything about. a little pressure on the nerve i had selected while the lieutenant slept; and i had dulled his brain till he did as we directed." "wonderful," exclaimed scudder admiringly, "i wish i knew the trick." "i hope i may never find it necessary to practice on you," was the reply of the other, uttered in a tone of voice that made harry feel, as he said afterward, as if he had touched the back of a moccasin. "what are your plans?" continued scudder, who was evidently an inferior in command to foyashi and the man spoken of as captain bellman, "here you start me off in the dark in a canoe with enough chapinite to blow half the everglades sky high and you don't even tell me where we are taking it." "you know as well as i do," replied the other, "that we are bound for the coast and that we are going to put the last consignment aboard the submarine to-night at the mouth of the jew-fish river. what follows to-morrow will be simply the tapping of the furnace taken to-night and we will work that up into chapinite in the government's yards at home." "then we are through here," commented scudder. "practically, yes. we shall meet the cruiser in the south atlantic next week and then sail for home." "the cruiser!" exclaimed scudder, "ain't you afraid of the united states government being suspicious?" "my dear friend," replied the other, "the wisdom of the oriental has been left out of your composition. the cruiser, as i call her, has been converted into the likeness of a peaceful passenger ship." "where do you coal her?" demanded scudder, a certain admiration in his tones. the boys were unable to catch the reply. indeed they could not have heard as much of the conversation as they did had not the small creek fortunately run parallel with the larger water-course for some distance. by dint of shoving along the banks with their hands the boys had managed to keep a short distance in the rear of the other canoe. her speed, however, prohibited their keeping up with her and they were compelled to satisfy themselves with what they had already heard, which, however, was of sufficient importance to cause them to order quatty to pole back at top speed to the mound-builders' island. it was evident from the conversation they had been lucky enough to overhear that the stealers of the formula, headed by captain mortimer bellman, were to leave the 'glades the next day. that the plotters had a submarine and that it lay at the mouth of the jew-fish river. furthermore a cruiser, belonging to the power whose agents the men were, was waiting to pick them up and carry them back to their own country and that lieutenant chapin had been subjected to a cruel operation in order to force him to submit to a betrayal of his country. it was a time to act quickly. there was in fact not a moment to spare. they arrived at the camp on the mound-builders' island shortly before dawn. a hasty survey with a lantern indicated, to their great satisfaction, that nothing had been disturbed and that everything was as they had left it. from the height of the summit nothing was visible now of the red glow of the blast furnace, which indicated to the boys that the plotters had concluded their work and that the blast had been extinguished forever. satisfactory as their night's work had been in one respect, however, it had been a dire failure in another and so the boys could not help admitting to each other. they had learned a pretty good outline of the plans of captain bellman and foyashi, but they had not gained a single bit of information about lieutenant chapin that would aid them in any way in rescuing him from what was likely to prove imminent death. chapter xxi. a bold dash. frank's first action was to bend over the wireless apparatus and send flashing and crackling across the air a message to camp walrus to be relayed in haste to the _tarantula_. the members of the young adventurers' party left at the camp were to remain there, ordered frank, till the _golden eagle ii_ returned. lathrop was instructed to inform the _tarantula_ of the whereabouts of the submarine so that lieutenant selby might head her off in case the boys were unsuccessful in the quest for the missing naval officer which frank felt bound to prosecute, even at the risk of letting the formula of the explosive get out of the country. "will do as instructed. gee! but you are all right," was lathrop's admiring response, which made both boys smile in spite of themselves and their heavy hearts. "what do you propose to do now?" asked harry, as frank cut out the circuit from the wireless and turned away from the instrument. "go back there as soon as we have had breakfast and make another try," was the young leader's instant response. "go back?" echoed harry in amazement. "we must," said frank earnestly, "a man's life may depend on how quickly we act." "but do you think there is any likelihood of our succeeding in getting near enough to their camp to aid lieutenant chapin materially," persisted the younger brother. "i don't know yet, but i have an idea that by landing on the other side of the island we might come up overland behind the settlement we saw last night and gain some idea of what has become of lieutenant chapin." "by george, frank, you are a wonder," said harry, admiringly. "you are right," he went on, "there is a chance and we'll take it." "i knew you'd say so, old fellow," responded frank, warmly grasping his brother's hand, "and now for breakfast. it may be the last we'll get for some time." both boys fell to with hearty appetites on wild guava, avocado pears, broiled doves and two cups a piece of quatty's coffee, which he made with the skill of a french chef. "i feel ready to tackle a regiment," declared harry as the last morsels disappeared. so far quatty had had no idea of the plan on foot and when he did hear it he set up a series of loud lamentations that could be heard a mile. it was all in vain, however. remorselessly frank ordered him down to the boat with his pole. had either of the boys been expert in the handling of a boat with this oar of the 'glades they would not have compelled the badly-scared black to accompany them, but it is an art which is only acquired by long practice and it was absolutely necessary that they have the benefit of his expertness. in the event, that even were the worst to happen, and they were to be themselves captured, it was not likely that any harm would come to quatty; so neither of their consciences hurt them much as quatty shoved off and they once more glided down the narrow water-course they had threaded the night before. by daylight their progress was more rapid than it had been in the darkness of the previous night, and it was not long before they gained the point at which the narrow stream they were threading branched into the broad main water-course. of course it was not a feasible idea to follow this and after some searching they managed to find a tiny, shallow runnel that proceeded through the saw-grass in the direction they wished to go but was small enough not to render it probable that it was a main traveled stream. to their great disappointment, however, this canoe path came to an end altogether after they had reached a point about opposite the trees that abutted on the plotters' settlement at the easterly end of their collection of huts. it continued on through the saw-grass, however, in the form of a muddy indian trail and the boys, after a short consultation, decided to leave the boat behind in quatty's charge and take to the trail. rifles in hand and revolvers on their hips, they struggled bravely along through the mud, that sometimes came up to their knees and sometimes only to their ankles. it was killing work, for as the sun worked higher the heat grew almost intolerable. innumerable varieties of small stinging insects too, settled about them in swarms and added to their discomfort. from time to time, in addition, a fat cotton-mouth would wiggle across the trail or occasionally open its mouth in a loud hiss, showing the white fangs that give it its name. frank killed one of these reptiles with the butt of his rifle. the others they had to avoid as best they could. of course they did not dare to discharge one of their weapons. to have done so would have brought the whole settlement about their ears. frank consulted his pocket compass from time to time, having taken the general bearing of the island from the boat before they started. the compass was the only means they had of knowing if they were following a correct course, as the saw-grass was so high on either side of the narrow trail that to see over it was an impossible feat. "phew!" whispered harry, as they floundered along through the wet, steamy earth, "i've been in warm places but this is certainly the hottest of them all." "we cannot have much further to go," replied frank, encouragingly, "as far as i could judge when we left the boat the island was about two miles away." "i feel as if we'd traveled ten at least," gasped poor harry. "hark!" his exclamation was called forth by a rustling in the tall grass directly ahead of them. "get ready for trouble," whispered frank. both boys got out their revolvers, as being handier weapons at close quarters than the rifles. the trail took an abrupt turn just beyond the point at which they stood, so that it was impossible to see who or what it was that was approaching. the rustling grew steadily nearer and both boys, while their hearts beat thickly, determined that if the persons coming down the path were foemen, to sell their lives dearly. the next minute they had a great surprise. round the curve in the trail swung two of the beautiful small everglade deer. it was a question which was the most astonished, the boys or the deer, at the encounter. for a fraction of a second the deer stood gazing with their big, liquid eyes, at the boys and the boys stared back at the deer. then, as the boys broke into a smothered laugh at their needless anxiety, the two animals swung round and galloped back the way they had come. "well, we are getting as nervous as a pair of kittens," laughed frank. "they made as much noise as a regiment," replied harry, echoing the other's merriment, "i always understood that the deer was a quiet retiring animal. now i know different." "at all events our encounter with them proves one valuable piece of information," said frank. "what?" demanded his brother. "that what we had supposed was an island must in reality be joined to this trail by solid land." "how do you make that out?" "well, those deer wouldn't go into the saw-grass, the stuff cuts like a knife. therefore they didn't get to the trail that way." "well?" "and their coats were not wet. i notice, therefore, they had not swum any creek to get here. all of which goes to show to my mind that if we follow this trail we will get dry-shod to the island." "dry-shod?" echoed harry, pointing to his muddied legs. "i mean that we shall not, as i began to fear, have to swim any creeks or wade runnels to gain it." it was as frank had assumed. a few minutes more tramping through the sticky black ooze brought them to a point where the trail widened, and they could see beyond the tops of the cabbage palms that fringed the edge of the island. "we are here at last," whispered frank, "now we shall have to go very carefully till we find out the lay of the land. there's no use walking into a trap for the lack of a little caution." slowly the boys crept on down the short section of trail now remaining. frank carefully noted the comparatively dry ground--where the marks of the deers' hoofs still showed--that there were no human tracks visible and this was in itself a good sign as it showed that the trail was a little used one. they emerged at length into a thickly-grown cabbage palm patch, through which, to their great delight, flowed a tiny stream, from one of the clear springs that abound on the islands of the everglades. lying flat on their faces the boys fairly sucked up the cool, clear water and let it trickle gratefully down their parched throats. greatly refreshed by their draught, they looked about them. the little grove in which they stood was surrounded by dense undergrowth. at first there seemed to be no path through the tangle, but after a lengthy search the boys discovered a narrow trail, evidently a continuation of the one they had just left. it led, as frank's compass showed, in the general direction of the settlement. "we've come so far we've got to go ahead now," were frank's words, as the two young adventurers plunged into the dense brush down the narrow trail. chapter xxii. ben stubbs disappears. left behind at camp walrus, billy barnes, lathrop, and ben stubbs watched the _golden eagle ii_ until she became a bird-like speck against the intense blue of the florida sky. "good luck to them," cried billy, a wish that was echoed by all the "stay-at-homes," as lathrop had dubbed them. "come on, lathrop," said billy, the second morning after the aeroplane faded from view, "let's get the guns and go for a hunt. i'm sure i heard a wild turkey in the brush yonder a while ago, and ben can mount guard over the wireless while we are gone." "do you think that will be all right?" questioned lathrop dubiously, "you know i'm the only one in the camp that can operate the instrument and i think i ought to keep within reach of it." "you're right," rejoined billy. "it will be better for ben and i to go." ben agreed with alacrity, the old prospector was never better pleased than when there was an opportunity to hunt, and he hastened to oil up his gun and fill his cartridge belt. "hold on a minute," said ben, as he and billy barnes started out, "i'm too old a woodsman to go into the woods without agreeing on a signal if anything happens. we'll use the old hunter's warning. if we need you, lathrop, or you need us, we are to fire first one shot then a pause and then two shots in rapid succession and keep it up till we get an answer. we'll be back to dinner." "all right," replied lathrop, "though i don't see just what trouble you can get into here, and as for me, i am all right i guess--so long." left alone lathrop took his fountain-pen and--though he had no idea when he could post it--began the composition of a long letter home. he was so engrossed with this employment that he did not notice the hour, and it was not till pork chops summoned him to lunch that he recalled with a start that the two hunters were still away. however, he assured himself it was probable that they had found good hunting in some distant part of the island and that they had not, like himself, realized how late it was getting. this done he walked uneasily up and down, waiting impatiently for the return of the hunters. he was really anxious and could no longer disguise from himself the fact that something of a serious nature must have happened to keep them out away so long. his mind ran the gamut of every accident, from snake-bite to accidental shooting, but he was as far from guessing the real truth as he was from being at ease in his mind. "bang!" a long pause--then again, "bang--bang." it was the alarm signal agreed upon by ben stubbs before the hunters left camp. the reports came from some distance in the forest, and lathrop, hastily getting his gun and half crazy with anxiety, answered it as soon as he could slip in the cartridges. what could have happened? firing frequently and being answered at closer intervals all the time, lathrop advanced into the jungle and had not proceeded very far when he encountered a strange figure. it was billy barnes, but a white-faced billy, his clothes torn by creepers and his face scratched and cut by his wanderings in the jungle. a very different figure from the usual trig one cut by the young reporter. "oh, billy, what has happened?" gasped lathrop, shocked at his companion's woe-begone appearance. the reporter's reply was sufficiently alarming. "ben stubbs has disappeared!" "disappeared?" echoed the amazed lathrop. "yes, as utterly as if the earth had opened and swallowed him," was the reply, in a strained, tired voice. "i've hunted for him all the afternoon and i have not been able to find a trace of him. i got almost cut to ribbons in the sharp-leaved briars or whatever you call them." he ruefully regarded his torn hands and ragged clothing. "you are sure he is not merely hunting in another part of the island." "certain," was the dispiriting reply, "you see it happened like this--we had shot a couple of turkeys when ben suggested our separating and getting a bigger bag in that way than we would by hunting together. we were to rejoin each other at the end of half an hour, the signal being two shots. at the end of half an hour i fired two shots but there was no answer. i tried again, and there was still no reply but the echo of my shots. i was scared then, i tell you, and fired the danger signal. still there was no answer. "well, then, i was rattled. i plunged about in the woods till i got all ripped up as you see and shouted for ben till i thought my throat would crack, but i didn't get a trace or a sign of him. then i recovered my wits a bit and got out my compass. i headed for camp, and when i judged i was near enough for you to hear me, i fired the danger signal--you answered it, and here i am." "oh, billy, what are we going to do?" exclaimed the younger boy. "make the best of it till we are certain ben is lost, and then communicate with the _tarantula_ and frank and harry," said the practical billy. "cheer up, we don't know yet that any actual harm has befallen him, it's the mystery of the thing that worries me." "i must send a wireless to frank and harry at once," cried lathrop. "you will do no such thing, young fellow," rejoined billy. "in the first place they have got troubles enough of their own right now; and, in the second, a man is never lost till you've sent out a general alarm for him, and he is still missing." "a general alarm?" repeated lathrop, puzzled. "yes, that's reporter's slang for advertising for a missing man. well, we can't advertise here unless the herons and mocassins get out a gazette, but we can take the canoes to-morrow and make a thorough circuit of the island." greatly comforted by billy's assumed light-heartedness, lathrop tramped back to camp by his side in a more cheerful frame of mind. as a matter of fact, billy was feeling what he himself would have described as "pretty blue," but he was sensible enough to know that the best way to face the emergencies of life is to look at them from the best possible aspect and not give up hope till every way out of difficulty has been tried. in the meantime what had happened was this, and it was sufficiently alarming. ben, after he parted from billy, had followed a fascinating "ke-ouk ke-ouk" through the brush till he found himself near the margin of the creek that flowed round the island. he had reached the brink and was looking inquiringly about him to ascertain what might have become of the big gobbler when he felt a rope thrown over his head from behind, and the next minute the big ex-sailor, great as was his strength, was struggling in the arms of a dozen men. who his captors were he was unable to see, for as the rope had tightened, his great arms were pinioned close to his side, forcing at the same time his gun from his grip, and a thick blanket had been thrown over his head. blinded and half suffocated, ben felt himself picked up and hustled through the wood. he tried to shout but the blanket effectually muffled his voice. after a few minutes of this rapid traveling ben felt himself thrown into what he instinctively realized was a canoe and then being paddled rapidly over the water. in what direction they were proceeding he had of course no means of knowing, but from the few words his captors had exchanged he knew he was in the hands of the seminoles. of the object of his abduction he could not even hazard a guess. after about an hour of traveling ben, through his smothering blanket, heard the loud barking of dogs and crying of children, and knew that they must be near a settlement of some kind. he was not left in doubt. the canoe's keel grated on the beach the next minute and he was dragged out and propelled toward the center of the sound. he felt dogs come sniffing about his legs and kicked out viciously. he grinned under his blanket as he heard one limp away with ear-piercing howls. "there's one trouble disposed of," thought ben to himself, "what's coming now. i wonder?" he was not kept long in suspense. he was suddenly halted and the cloth jerked off his head. his wrists, however, were not unbound. it was now dark, and in the sudden glare of firelight that confronted him, ben's eyes refused their duty for a minute or so. as he grew accustomed to the light, however, and looked about him he saw that he stood in the center of a ring of palmetto-thatched huts which were crowded with women and children, all heavily laden with beads--in fact these were about all the clothing the children wore--while all about him were grouped grave-faced men with bright-colored turbans on their heads, one of whom he at once recognized as the chief who had visited them with quatty the previous afternoon and promised them freedom from annoyance while they were in the limits of the 'glades. "this is a dern fine way you keep your promises," roared the captive ben indignantly, while the women snickered and the men regarded him with stolid curiosity, "you cigar-store injuns you, if i had my hands free i'd hammer you into lobscouse. i'd show you the kind of a buck sailorman i am. i thought you promised us you wouldn't disturb us and here you clap my head in a mainsail and furl me in it till i can't use my deadlights to see day from night. keelhaul you, if i had you aboard a ship i'd masthead the lot of you till you fell overboard." there was not a word in reply and the chief stood with folded arms, as immobile as if ben had not spoken a word. "oh, you're all going to play deaf, are you," bellowed the enraged ex-sailorman, "well, it won't go down with me, my hearties. i know you can hear,--oh, if only i had my hands free i'd put some life into you--you--you row of tenpins." here ben stopped, because he was completely out of breath with his volcanic outburst. while he was getting ready for a fresh eruption, to his surprise one of the younger men stepped forward from the solemn circle and in excellent english, considering the place and by whom it was spoken, said: "you all through big talk, white man?" "all through," sputtered the amazed ben, "yes, i'm through, that is for the present. and now, as you seem to be the only one of this collection of dummies that has any glimmering of sense, will you please tell me why i am fetched here like a ship's cat going aboard a strange craft, all tied up in a bag?" "no savee--ship's cat," replied the seminole quietly; "plentee--savee, white man tell heap lie--all time." "calling me a liar, now are you, you mahogany-colored lobster," yelled ben, "i'd like to get one good punch at you, my matey." "all white men liars," blandly went on the indian, "steal our land--all time break word to us--um no good." "well?" demanded ben. "well," went on the spokesman of the tribe, "you stay here lilly while--we no hurt you. when you fren's go then you go, too. they no hurt us we no hurt you." "oh, is that so?" replied ben, "werry good of you, i'm sure." "you eat plenty sofkee--plenty fowl--plenty tobac. good time plenty, how?" now ben had been in tight places in his adventurous career and he was by no means disposed to offend the seminoles by seeming over anxious to get away, at least for the present, for he knew that if he did so any chance that his wrist gyves would be removed would be lost, so he acquiesced gracefully to all the indian had said. "all right, old odds-and-ends," he said, "i'll act as hostage as long as you feed me well and give me plenty to smoke. now, take off these." as soon as his reply had been translated to the chief, and that dignitary had agreed, the ropes that bound ben's wrists were cut and he was at comparative liberty. "sofkee?" questioned the young indian who had conducted the negotiations, indicating a huge pot simmering on the fire. and then for the first time ben tasted that delectable standby dish of the seminoles, which is composed of birds, rabbits, turtles, fish, corn, potatoes, sweet and white, peppers, beans and anything else that comes to hand. there is a big kettle of it kept handy in every seminole village and anyone who happens along is at liberty to help himself. there is only one drawback to the dish from fastidious folks' point of view, and that is that every one helps him or herself from the same big wooden spoon. but ben was not fastidious and he made a hearty meal of the savory compound, and then after a pipe or two of tobacco, appeared to compose himself to sleep on a pile of skins laid on the floor of the palmetto-thatched hut assigned to him. he simulated slumber till midnight when, as no one appeared to be watching, he rose and tiptoed out of the camp and down to the water's edge where the canoes were moored. he was about to launch one when a tall figure stepped out of the gloom of the trees and pointed a rifle straight at him. "huh--white man go back--or injun shoot," said the figure. ben, as has been said, was a wise man--he went back. chapter xxiii. the boy aviators trapped. the trail on which frank and harry found themselves wound irregularly through dense groves of wild fig, orange, custard apple and palmetto trees, through which from time to time they could catch glimpses of the dark, monotonous brown sea of the everglades stretching away into the remote distance. they plodded along it not speaking a word, through undergrowth that at times brushed their arms, crackling in an annoying fashion to anyone who wanted his advance to be unheralded. the growth was as dry as tinder and frank could not help thinking to himself that a fire once started among it would rage through the forest as if it had been soaked with kerosene. suddenly, and without a moment's warning, frank tripped and fell flat on his face, his rifle shooting out of his hands and falling with a loud crash on the hard-baked ground. this was bad enough in itself but there was a worse shock in store for the boys. a moment's glance sufficed to show them that a wire had been stretched across the trail at this point and that, as frank's foot struck it and he tripped, a loud, clanging alarm-bell began to sound and by the loudness of its uproarious clangor, it could not be more than a few paces from where they then were. "quick, harry! run for your life!" said frank, in a low, tense voice, scrambling to his feet. "we have struck an alarm wire and in a minute we shall have a dozen men on our track." stumbling along the rough path the boys began to make the best speed they could over its uneven surface. but the tough journey they had made through the muddy trail among the saw-grass, and the fact that they had not eaten for some hours and were feeling somewhat faint, made a fast speed impossible. they had not gone more than a few hundred yards when harry gave a gasp and pressed his hand to his side. "what is it, harry?" asked frank, through his parched lips. "keep on, frank," gasped the younger boy, "you can make it if you hurry. i'm tuckered out." "come, make an effort, you've got to," said frank sternly, realizing that now was no time to sympathize with his younger brother, although he hated to use the sharp tone he thought it expedient to assume. the younger boy rose to his feet. pluckily he staggered on a few steps but sank to the ground again, overcome with the pain of the sharp "stitch" in his side. "go on, frank," he whispered in a faint voice, "you go on. i'll get through somehow," he added bravely, with a pitiful effort at a confident smile. "as if i'd leave you," said frank, indignantly, "can't you run another foot, old boy?" "no, i really can't, frank," gasped harry, "i couldn't move if i was to be killed the next minute." "then i'll have to carry you," decided frank, "i've done it when you were a little fellow, and i guess i can manage it now. put your arms round my neck--so. now then." with his added burden frank struggled gamely on, though every step was telling heavily on him. if they could only reach the little glade of cabbage palms, there was a pile of rocks there, he recollected, behind which they could hide. speed meant everything, and pressing his lips together determinedly, frank swore to himself that he would make the rocks or die. and somehow by a supreme effort of will, he made them. though how he managed that last sickening effort of half dragging and half carrying his inanimate burden across the little grove he never recollected. but he made it and, having scrambled up the rough crevices in the pile of stone in which he hoped to find a safe asylum, he dragged his half-fainting brother into position beside him. and now he could hear far back in the brush loud shouts and orders coming thick and fast. what a fool he had been not to realize that men engaged on such a hazardous enterprise as were the bogus manufacturers of chapinite would have more cunning than to leave their retreat unguarded by alarm appliances. if only he had watched the trail more carefully. but it was too late for vain regrets now; they would have to trust to luck to avoid detection for, judging by the noise and the number of different voices, the search for the invaders was to be a hot one. the young leader tried grittily to choke back the great, panting gasps in which his breath came after his exertions. but he might as well have attempted to stop a cataract, as to check his sobbing respiration. to him his deep breaths sounded as loud as the reports of minute guns. and now a fresh peril made itself manifest. a deep baying sound arose far up the trail, which frank recognized, with a violent throb of the heart, as the sound of bloodhounds, giving tongue on the scent. their discovery was inevitable. "can you handle your revolver, harry?" he asked of his younger brother, who was now somewhat recovered, thanks to the shade and the rest he had had. "yes, frank," whispered harry, hoarsely, and then the next minute, noticing frank's troubled face, as the baying grew louder and nearer, "you needn't tell me, old fellow, what that means--it's bloodhounds." frank nodded gravely. "i'm afraid our chances of seeing the _golden eagle ii_ and our comrades are about nil," he said. the other boy did not reply. he was listening to the sounds of the dogs baying and the savage human shouts that grew momentarily nearer. "don't use the revolvers unless you have to," whispered frank, whose wind was now returning,--"but the first dog that comes over the top of the rock--knife him." harry nodded and drew his heavy hunting-knife from its case. frank did the same. "now we are ready for all comers," said harry, with a wan smile, gripping the horn handle of his blade with a determined grip. they had not long to wait. from their nest in the rocks they saw the first dog, a huge, bristly-haired cuban bloodhound, with heavy hackles and blood-shot eyes, come bounding into the clearing, sniffing the ground and from time to time throwing his head into the air with a loud ringing bay that chilled the blood. the animal was followed by half a dozen others of his own breed. without a moment's hesitation they made straight across the glade and for the rocks. the first one scrambled up with difficulty, and as his dripping fangs showed over the top of the rampart of rock, frank's arm shot out and he fell back with a choking growl--dead. the next of the savage beasts fell before harry's knife, a great gaping wound in its throat; but after that the boys were no match for the four huge beasts that fell on them at once. frank felt the teeth of one brute grip him through his stout khaki clothes while he had his hands on the throat of another, choking its life out. harry had plunged his knife into another and was turning desperately on its mate when there was a sudden interruption of the impending tragedy. a sharp, clear whistle rang through the clearing and the survivors of the brutes that had attacked the boys limped dispiritedly away from them and shuffled in the direction from which the summons had proceeded. from their eyrie in the rocks the boys saw two dozen or more small yellow men, in white duck jackets and trousers, with yellow straw slippers on their feet, rush into the glen followed by a tall man in a sort of undress naval uniform. he it was who had given the whistle. he gave an evil laugh as he saw the wounded, exhausted animals come shuffling toward him, their tails between their legs. "they are in the rocks yonder, boys. surround them!" he ordered in a sharp, harsh voice. "they shall pay dearly for each of my beauties they have killed." one of the little brown men, who wore a red band about his arm and seemed to be a leader among them, shouted some sharp orders to his fellow countrymen and they spread about the rocks in a circle. the first impulse of the boys had been to run for it but they realized, even as the thought entered their minds, that it would be useless in their exhausted condition to try to make their escape. each of their opponents was armed and while they also carried weapons, still they could only have stood off an attack for a few minutes. with a shout the little brown men rushed at the boy aviators as they stood side by side, but they hesitated and fell back as frank and his brother aimed their revolvers. "i do not want to take human life," cried frank, "but the first one of you that lays a hand on us i'll shoot him." "very fine talk," sneered the big white man, striding up, "but there are twelve of us here." "yes," replied frank, undaunted, and tapping the magazine of his revolver, "and there are twice twelve here and they all come out at once." the big man paused a minute and bit his lip. for a minute he seemed about to give orders to his followers to fire on the boys and shoot them down where they stood. he evidently thought better of his intention later, however, for he said, with a change of voice from his original harsh, rasping tone. "there are several things i want to talk to you about, frank chester--you see i know you and your brother harry--will you give up your weapons and agree to accompany me to my camp if on my part i give my word not to harm you?" frank realized in that instant that the man who faced him was captain mortimer bellman, the renegade american officer, and he also weighed and recognized the value of a pledge from such a man; but they were in position where there was nothing to be gained by fighting and in which much benefit might accrue to them from temporizing--so: "yes," he said, "we will go with you." chapter xxiv. a startling meeting. the legion of little brown men at once fell in round the two boys, whose clean cut young figures towered above their squat forms, and after they had surrendered their weapons--not without a momentary qualm of regret on frank's part--the march to the camp began. bellman said little as they made their way along the trail, but strode along with his hands clasped behind his back as though in deep thought. he was a huge man, with a singularly brutal face bronzed by the suns of a dozen countries over which he had been a wanderer, and a heavy drooping mustache which hid a cruel mouth. his eyes were steely gray and as keen as a hawk's. such was the man into whose power the boy aviators had fallen and even they did not realize the extent to which such a man will go to gain an end--and that he had an end in view his action in sparing their lives fully convinced them. at last they emerged--after passing once more over the luckless wire--on the settlement under the hill that frank had noted the night before from the boat. there was every evidence of abandonment about it, however, even now, although it had been so recently the scene of activity. "if you had come to-morrow i should not have had the pleasure of receiving you," said bellman, with a sardonic grin, waving his hand to indicate the preparations for the abandonment of the settlement. the blast furnace had been almost completely demolished and a gang of men, compatriots of the small brown men who formed the boys' escort, were busily engaged in completing the work of destruction with crowbars and picks. several of the small houses which frank had seen from the boat had also vanished and the rest were portable contrivances. they were being rapidly taken to pieces and carried up the hill into the woods, where doubtless they were to be destroyed, for the smoke of a big fire was beginning to rise from there. in the side of the hill back of the blast furnace, a great ragged hole had been torn like a small quarry, and a runway from this to the shattered blast-furnace indicated that some earth found in the hillside was reduced in the crucible to a condition in which it formed an ingredient of chapinite. the large building was evidently a sort of bunk-house for the workmen and packing-house for the product that captain bellman and his men had been making there, for from its wide door a perpetual stream of dwarfed brown men were carrying packing cases carefully wrapped in straw to a small fleet of canoes that lay moored alongside a primitive wharf. all these things the boys' eyes took in as they were led across the bare earth to the barrack-like building; but of the man to search for whom they had come to the everglades they could see no sign. bellman's first care was for his wounded dogs, after which he ordered his men to bring the boys into a long, low ceiled room, apparently from its heat right under the roof of the bunk-house. straw mats laid all along the walls also indicated that it was used as a sleeping attic by the orientals employed on the island. there was a small table in the room with a rickety chair by it, and bellman took up a seat at it. "we need not occupy much time," were his first words, as the boys stood facing him, surrounded by their impassive-faced guards. "i and my men are leaving the everglades forever to-night. we wish to be secure against anybody following us. where is this air-ship of yours and where are the canoes in which you brought it here?" "why do you wish to know?" demanded frank. "i naturally wish to make myself secure from pursuit by destroying them," was the cool reply, "if you don't wish to tell me i shall find them." frank knew that this last was an empty boast as to search the everglades for their canoes or for their air-ship either would be a work occupying much more time than bellman could afford to spare. "under no circumstances will i give you any such information," said frank. "i admire your pluck but deplore your lack of common sense," rejoined bellman with a sneer. "we don't care any more for your admiration than we do for your sympathy," replied frank, proudly. bellman's dark face flushed angrily. "this is the way you treat my intended kindness," he thundered, striking the table with his clenched fist till its crazy legs wobbled under it. "well, i shall try another method. if you had answered me i would have sent some seminoles here to pick you up, once i was safe at sea, but as it is now i shall leave you here to rot." little as frank believed bellman's tentative promise that he would send relief to them if they afforded him the opportunity to raid their camp and destroy their canoes and the _golden eagle ii_, yet both boys realized not without dismay that there was a good deal of deadly earnest in the last words he had spoken. "leave them there to rot." involuntarily both boys shuddered. bellman's malevolent eye saw this and interpreted it at once as a sign of weakening. "ah," he said viciously, "i touched you there, eh?" "i don't know what you mean by that," said frank, "but if you intend to convey that we are afraid of you, we are not." "or of any cad that has been kicked out of the united states' navy, and has turned against his country," added harry. "you young whelp," shouted bellman, beside himself at the sneer, "you have tried to checkmate me at every turn, but you'll find out i am more than your match." "you come here to find lieutenant chapin, the dog who was instrumental in my disgrace. well, i'll introduce you to him." he gave a sharp order in the same tongue his followers used and the next minute the boys were seized. with a good, left-hand punch to the jaw frank knocked one of the amazed little brown men half across the room and the next minute harry had served another the same way. but it was no good. the opposing force was too many for them and ignominiously handcuffed they were at length led down several steep flights of stairs into what they knew, by its musty smell, must be an underground chamber. the darkness of the place was made visible, so to speak, by a smoky oil-torch, like those used in the stoke-hold of a steamer, that hung in one corner. it was miserably damp and several subterranean streams fed by the mountain above trickled across the floor. in one corner the boys noticed, as their eyes grew accustomed to the light, was a curious contrivance formed of two long bars of heavy wood with holes pierced in them at regular intervals. two heavy posts stood at each end of this contrivance, to which were attached heavy padlocks and hasps. with a quick thrill of horror the boys realized that they faced that instrument of confinement of blue-law days--the stocks. after another sharp order from bellman their captors carried them to the appliance and raising the heavy upper block of wood thrust the boys' legs into the semicircular openings cut in the lower section for that purpose. similar holes were cut in the upper bar and when it was lowered and padlocked down the unfortunate person confined there could in no way release himself till somebody unlocked the padlocks. "now," said bellman, when this work was completed to his satisfaction, and the boys were securely fastened in their prison, "i am going to introduce you to the man you have been looking for. serang," he ordered, turning to the little brown man with the red stripe on his arm, "sahib chapin bring." the man nodded obediently and left the fetid chamber. the boys wondered that he did not take any companion with him, but when he returned, leading a stumbling, helpless figure, they understood that even a small man of his caliber was able now to handle the once strapping lieutenant chapin. for that in the figure before them, for all his unshaven cheeks and blinking eyes, like those of a bat, they had the man they had come all the way in search of, his uniform, now bagging in unsightly fashion about his shrunken form left them no room to doubt. the miserable scarecrow figure that gazed apologetically about it, was the inventor of chapinite, and once the most popular man in the united states navy. the boys' cheeks burned with indignation at the sight, and if they might have had any weak inclination to save their lives by yielding to bellman's demand that they reveal the whereabouts of the _golden eagle ii_, the sight of the miserable wreck before them would at once have decided them. they would stick by the unfortunate officer come what might and if possible, avenge the indignities he had suffered. "put him in alongside them, serang," ordered bellman, as chapin gazed about in a dazed manner, evidently realizing little of what was transpiring and in a few minutes lieutenant chapin, frank chester and his brother harry, were trussed up in a row absolutely helpless. it was a bitter thought that here they were within hand's reach of the man they had come so far and endured so much to succor, and now they were as helpless to aid him as he seemed to be to care for himself. "i wish you a pleasant afternoon," said bellman, as, signing to the serang, he and his myrmidons left the subterranean chamber. as soon as their footsteps had died out frank determined to make an effort to arouse the dormant faculties of lieutenant chapin. "lieutenant," he said, "we are your friends. can you understand us?" to his amazement a light of brighter intelligence shone in the captive officer's face and he answered with what was absolute briskness compared to his former listless manner: "of course i can; but who are you?" rapidly frank sketched out to him the events that had brought them there and all they had hoped to accomplish. then in a saddened voice he had related the failure of their hopes and aspirations. the lieutenant thanked them warmly for their loyalty, but urged them to save their lives if possible by acceding to bellman's demands. for himself, he said, he expected no better fate than to be left there to die. "my life has been a living death at any rate," he said, "since i came to this terrible place. yours are the first kindly faces i have seen. i have lived as if in a dream." he pressed his hand to his forehead. "it seems that i must do what they told me. i have even, as you know, aided in the betrayal of my government by aiding these men in preparing my invention. for the last two days, though, my mind has been getting clearer. i have realized what is going on about me. i can judge things in their true proportions." "but--pardon me for the question--" said frank, "but when you----" "i know," interrupted the lieutenant, "you are going to say that when i came in here, i seemed stupefied. i was acting a part. i did not want bellman to think that i had recovered my senses. i cannot understand it myself. until yesterday everything was like a dream, now i can think once more like a rational man." frank detailed to him the conversation that they had overheard in the boat the night before and the boast that foyashi had made that he had placed the captive under his control. "ah, that is it," exclaimed the lieutenant eagerly, "since foyashi has gone i have felt this new life of my brain, but hark--there's somebody coming." his ears, sharpened by his long captivity, were keener than the boys' for it was not till the serang with the red band on his arm entered the place that they heard any indication of the arrival of the newcomer. he came straight up to the boys and informed them that it was the order of his master that he should search them. his manner was not insolent or rough, it was simply the manner of the lay figure who does as he is told and asked no questions. indignant but helpless harry submitted to the search. he begged the man to let him keep his mother's picture which he carried in a case in his inside pocket, but the man refused with a mechanical shake of the head. "no, my orders. tuan he say take everything," he muttered. then came frank's turn. as with harry one by one his most treasured possessions were stripped from him by the immobile faced, yellow man. but suddenly something happened that had been entirely unlooked for. frank had entirely forgotten the squatting buddha, which he had placed in his pocket the day the moonshiner had sold it to him, and had not given it a thought since. now, however, the serang's searching hand found it in the boy's pocket and the effect on him was electrical. he fell on his knees reverentially before the absurd looking piece of jade and beat his head on the damp floor and then gazed at frank in awe. "how came you by this, master?" he asked. frank saw that the possession of the thing had made a strong effect on the man and that to deceive him as to the fact in the case, might have a beneficial bearing on their position, so he simply shook his head and as harry would have said, "looked wise." "him great buddha of lhasa," moaned the serang, bobbing up and down before it. "you great man. me worship you if you give him me for keep." "why don't you steal it from us; we can't prevent you?" harry could not help saying. "no can steal. if steal heap curse all time. plenty soon die," was the response, "but if give then great blessing--plenty blessing all time." a sudden idea struck frank. "you are leaving here to-night in canoes for the coast?" he asked. "yes," was the reply, "we leave here never no more to come back." "if i give you that buddha will you unlock these stocks and these handcuffs before you go?" he asked. the man thought a minute. "if you don't i will make the buddha curse you," pursued frank. this seemed to decide the yellow man. "all litee," he said, "before i go i lettee you out but no let bellman know; he kill me." "we won't let him know," said frank with emphasis, "but how do we know that you will keep your word?" "if i don't then buddha curse me and i die," said the man simply as he left the dungeon. the boys felt that they had secured a pledge of freedom by the merest chance that was better than all the promises that could be made from now till doomsday. chapter xxv. quatty as a scout. acting on billy's suggestion lathrop did not, as we know, wireless any news of the disappearance of ben stubbs to the boy aviators. he in fact agreed, after some pondering of the situation, with the reporter's opinion that it was needless to worry them when they already had their hands full. the night after ben stubbs' mysterious vanishment was passed in no very agreeable way by the young dwellers at camp walrus and as for pork chops his wails when he learned of it rang to heaven and back again. "ah jes' knowed dat dis yer trip was hoodooed fum de moment dat marse frank got dat lil' green mummery from dat moonshine man," he said gloomily, and made dire and dismal prophecies till billy, seeing that lathrop was very nearly breaking down under the strain, packed the skipper of the _carrier dove_ off to bed. billy and lathrop spent most of the night hours--except when they fell into troubled dozes from time to time--seated beside the silent wireless instrument, hoping against hope that news of some kind might be received from the boys. ben's self-reliance and adaptability had made itself so manifest on the expedition that, as billy said, it seemed impossible to believe that any really serious mishap had befallen him. again and again as they sat by the fire the boys went over and over the puzzling affair. lathrop repeated his story to billy a dozen times and each time the young reporter asked for a repetition hoping that some point that would shed a light on the mystery might have been omitted by the other. but lathrop's recitals of the incident varied not at all and billy was fain to give it up at last. "i've worked on a lot of queer disappearance cases," he remarked sententiously, "but this has them all beaten by ten blocks and the city hall." and when billy dropped off into a troubled nap he had a vivid dream that his city editor had presented him with a big crocodile, stuffed in a lifelike manner and equipped with silver teeth and claws of enormous size. the young reporter was in the midst of an elaborate speech of thanks when he awoke and found that the first gray heralding of dawn was broad in the east and that the great multitude of herons and fish-eating birds that roosted among the islands was already beginning its pilgrimage to the feeding grounds on the oyster bars of the archipelago. dawn in the everglades is a beautiful and impressive sight, but billy at that time had no eyes for it. his sole thought was to find ben stubbs. he therefore aroused lathrop and the two boys, after routing out pork chops and making him cook them a quick breakfast and put them up a light lunch, started for the canoes, determined to circumnavigate the island in search of their missing comrade. carefully they explored every inch of the soft muddy beach and in due time arrived at the spot where several feet, intermingled in an inextricable pattern, marked the spot where the seminoles had blindfolded and kidnapped ben. billy, with a reporter's trained instinct, was on his hands and knees in a minute and came amazingly near reconstructing the scene of ben's capture. "ben was seized by several men--indians i should say. he made a brief resistance but was overpowered and dragged some distance and then carried. he was then hurled into an indian canoe, which was followed by two others, and taken to some indian village; where or why, i don't know," he declared. "well, mr. sherlock holmes," said lathrop, laughing, in spite of his heavy heart, at billy's surprising enthusiasm, which led him to construct what seemed to the other boy at best a fanciful theory, "like dr. watson i can understand part of your reasoning, namely that he was seized by indians for i can see the marks of their moccasins, i can also understand--knowing ben as i do--that he struggled;" he chuckled again as he pictured the wiry, steel-muscled ben laying out his captors, "but for the rest please explain." "it's simple enough, my dear watson," said billy in the manner of the celebrated sleuth of fiction, "ben's boots had hob-nails--very well, i can see that after stamping round a lot, hob-nails were dragged by moccasins--see the little lines they made in the sand? then the lines stop but there are no more hobnails, clearly then he was carried." "yes, but the two canoes that followed the one they put him in?" asked lathrop. "how do you know that there were two others?" "ridiculously simple," replied billy, "here is the mark made by the keel of one canoe; beyond that, my dear watson, if you will use your eyes, you will see two other keel marks--hence three canoes." "well, i am a dummy," exclaimed lathrop, considerably vexed that he had not puzzled the problem out for himself, "but i don't see how that puts us any further--in fact it makes it more inexplicable for the indians, through that rascal quatty, promised us that they would not molest the camp and yet, if your theory is the right one, they have carried off one of the most valuable members of our party." "hum," said billy and scratched his head, "there's one thing, however," he said consolingly, "they can't mean him any real harm or else they would probably have killed him right here." "maybe they are cannibals and mean to eat him," suggested lathrop. "he'd be a pretty tough morsel," laughed billy, "but don't worry about that, lathrop, the seminoles are not cannibals and from all i hear are pretty good sort of people, as indians go. i have got a sort of an inkling that we shall hear from ben before very long in some way or another." "i hope so," said lathrop and then--there being nothing else to do--they paddled back to the camp. it was then past noon and after waiting for some word from the boys for an hour or more their two comrades determined to call them up and acquaint them with what had happened. patiently lathrop operated the _golden eagle's_ call for half-an-hour or more. "what's the matter?" asked billy, seeing a troubled look on the boy's face. "i don't understand it," responded the other boy, "i can't raise them." "keep on trying," urged billy. but it was no good, there was no answer from the _golden eagle_ for a reason that our readers know. at the time that lathrop was shooting his urgent summons into space the boys were lying in the stocks on captain bellman's island. thoroughly alarmed lathrop sent out the navy call and after a short time got into communication with the _tarantula_. lieutenant selby himself responded, after the operator had told him of lathrop's grave news. for an hour he and lathrop talked across space and it was finally agreed that the _tarantula_ was to send a detachment of men to the island with a machine-gun and other provisions and that if the boys did not shortly reappear a relief expedition would be started into the interior after them. "what is your latitude and longitude?" spelled out the _tarantula's_ wireless, when the arrangements had been completed. at lathrop's request billy hurried into the hut and fetched out frank's log-book in which, in his neat writing, the position of the island was jotted down: "latitude 25â° 29' 30" n," he read out, "longitude 80. 56. 45. w." as the young reporter read off frank's entries lathrop rattled them out on the wireless and when they had been repeated through the air, to make certain they were correct, he cut out the instrument. "it's queer that if frank's information was correct that there is no sign of the submarine at the mouth of jew-fish river," remarked lathrop. billy agreed with him. "how far is the river mouth from here?" he asked. lathrop fetched the map and weighting down the corners with stones till it lay flat on the ground, both boys studied it intently. lathrop announced, after a few minutes' figuring with dividers and compass, that the river--at the mouth of which the submarine of the far eastern power was supposed to be,--was not more than ten miles from the island on which they were then encamped. "if only the boys were here we could make it in the canoes in a short time," sighed billy, "but what are we to do? we don't know a thing about navigation and we could never find it without frank." "that's so," agreed lathrop. "oh," he burst out suddenly, "i wish we'd never seen the everglades. if only we could get safe on board the _tarantula_ i believe i'd stay there till she sailed for home." "and leave the boys here," exclaimed billy, "not much you wouldn't--not if you are the kind of boy i take you for. cheer up, lathrop, we'll pull out all right. i was with frank and harry in nicaragua in places that you'd think three boys could never have escaped from, but we got through all right and we'll get through this--try that old sparker of yours again." lathrop once more adjusted his operator's harness and sent wave after wave humming through the air in search of the _golden eagle ii's_ answering vibrations, but no reply came and at last he gave up in sheer weariness. "it's more than fifteen hours since we have heard from them," he said in despair, "and frank promised not to remain out of communication with us for long, unless something very serious had occurred. what can be the matter?" "perhaps her apparatus is out of order," suggested billy, "and they are not getting your calls." "with an expert like frank looking after it--not likely," replied the other boy. "i wish i could consider it probable." pork chops had gone down to the canoe anchorage to fish earlier in the afternoon. to his simple mind it was necessary for him to provide his young masters with as good food as possible even though the world were to come to an end; so, seated on a branch overhanging the clear water, he had angled with good luck all the afternoon. as it grew dusk he muttered to himself: "dis yar trip ain't nuffin' but foolishness no how. ah jes' wish ah'd stayed hum at miami, but po'k chops, you fool niggah, you don' nevah know when youse is well off--no, sah." shaking his head with deep conviction the darky rolled up his tackle and thrusting a long creeper through the gills of his fish he prepared to return to camp. as he rose to his feet, however, he perceived something coming toward him down the channel which caused him to throw up his hands with a yell, letting all his fish drop back into the water and screaming: "ghoses!" at the top of his voice, the terrified black raced for the friendly presence of lathrop and billy. the boys' first impression on seeing pork chops' crazy antics was the wild anticipation that the boys had returned. their hopes were dashed the next second, however, by the loud wails of their retainer: "oh, lawd, marse lath'op, oh, lawdy, mr. billy. ah seen a brack ghoses' coming down de creek. fo' de lawd's sake, sah, don' go; he put de hant on you," he cried in an agonized wail as lathrop and billy started for the canoe anchorage to see what had caused the demoralization of pork chops. for a minute they were almost as startled as he as their eyes encountered a figure sufficiently alarming to scare a stronger-minded individual than pork chops. staggering up from the anchorage was a figure in pitiful rags with big, poppy white eyes staring glassily out of a face as black as ink. the figure's hands were cut and bleeding and it wore, tied about its head, a strip of calico torn from its shirt which lay open, exposing a chest as black as its face. it was several seconds before both the boys recognized this object clearly, and exclaimed in a simultaneous gasp: "quatty!" quatty it was; but a very different quatty from the usual debonair black answering to that name. it was more like a ghost of quatty. it was not till he had been restored with coffee and food that the unfortunate negro was able to render a clear account of himself. his news was sufficiently disquieting. "ah sat der in de lilly canvas boat foh more'n hour," he said, after he had detailed the rest of the boys' adventures since leaving the camp, "an' waited fo' dem to come back. ah tho'ght fum de fus' it was a bobbery kin' of fing to do, but marse frank and marse harry----" "that will do, quatty," said billy checking the garrulous black, "keep to your story." "wall, sah," continued quatty, "i laid dere in de boat waitin',--it might have been up'ards of an hour--as i said--when i hears de most confounded debbil racket of dogs yelping an' shoutin' as ever i did hear--yes, sah. wall, thinks i, i can creep through the saw-grass a bit an' see what it is, an' i does;--den i sees marse frank and harry and a lot of fellers that looked like chinaman only smaller, an' a big man who seemed to be boss. dey had dem two poor boys prisoners an' fum de looks ob dem i knew i couldn't hev done no good dere, so i jes' gets in de boat and paddles and poles back yar and i declare i was mos' tuckered when dat misbul, ignant savage yander, po'k chops, seen me an' was no mo' of a gen'l'man dan to run fo' he life like i been a duppy." of course the first part of his narrative, which is already familiar to our readers, had put the boys in possession of the facts about the _golden eagle ii_ and the reason they got no answer to their calls. after wirelessing lieutenant selby the momentous news the boys held a long consultation, while pork chops and quatty sat on opposite sides of the camp-fire and glowered at each other. the upshot of their discussion was that it was their duty to set out immediately and if possible recover the air-ship and rescue the boys. it was a plan full of risks, but where the lives of their comrades were at stake neither boy felt inclined to hold back. as quatty's strength had by now quite returned, with the quick recuperative powers of the out-door negro, and he was quite sure he could guide them to the mound-builders' island, as well by night as by day, they agreed to start at once. the canoes were hastily loaded with duffle and as, with lathrop and billy in one and quatty leading in the other, they made their way along the dark channels, lathrop was blessing the days back in old new york when he had determined to learn to run an aeroplane. chapter xxvi. lathrop as an air pilot. "dere she is, massa." quatty's dark figure standing up in the canoe was outlined against the deep ultramarine blue of the night sky as he pointed to an indistinct blur on the horizon. "she" both the boys instantly realized with a thrill was the mound-builders' island on which the _golden eagle ii_ had been left. they had been paddling hard all night and sometimes poling where the maze of streams they followed shallowed to a mere puddle. with the sudden nearing of their goal a new fear was borne in upon them. would the aeroplane be there? or had the same mysterious forces that held the boy aviators captive wrecked their ship, too? silently--after the first flush of the excitement at quatty's having guided them right through a wilderness that it seemed impossible to traverse except at random--the boys paddled on. their minds were both busy with the same question. what would they find when they got there? perhaps after all their errand would prove to be in vain. lathrop was the first to voice the apprehension, they both felt. "suppose the _golden eagle ii_ is gone?" he asked in a low voice. "then we will hunt up the _tarantula_, get a detachment of bluejackets and clean out the everglades before we'll give up the search," was the determined reply of the young reporter. billy was rising to the emergency. the sun had already risen when the outlines of the distant island became visible in detail and billy, after a long and careful scrutiny through the glasses, declared he could see something that might or might not be the _golden eagle ii_ perched on its summit. this was cheering news and put new strength into the paddlers' flagging arms. from that time on till they reached the island and found that all was well the boys did not speak a word, but put all their strength into the work of urging the boats through the water. it was aggravating work too, for at times they would be only half a mile from the island and then they would find that they were compelled to follow another watery path that took them a couple of miles away from their destination. at last, however, the keels of the little flotilla grated on the island and billy and lathrop ran up the well-worn trail leading to the summit. their joy at finding the air-ship intact may be imagined. it was better luck than they had dared to hope for. speed was the main thing now and while they might have reached the island of the formula stealers by boat the journey there and back to the coast again by water would have been a tedious one and might indeed, by its very length, have defeated their purpose. lathrop's first care was to examine the gasolene supply. he found to his satisfaction that the tank was more than half full and he immediately dumped into it the contents of the two five-gallon cans of reserve supply that the boys had brought along and which were stored under the transom. for an hour or more the boy went over the machine carefully, striving to master to the minutest detail its working parts. lathrop was an aviator and next to the boys, perhaps was as skilled a navigator of aerial craft as the old school in new york had turned out, but he was a little dubious about his ability to run the _golden eagle ii_. however, it had to be done and after giving billy careful instructions about keeping the oil cups filled and seeing to it that the condenser was in constant working order, lathrop decided that things were about ready for his experimental flight in the chester boys' big aeroplane. "and to think that in white plains i'd have given my head to see it and here i am going to run her," he could not help saying to himself as he stepped back and gave a final look over the craft. under lathrop's direction the aeroplane was wheeled back to the furthest boundary of the top of the mound as he did not want to take chances on not securing a good running start. lathrop knew that aeroplanes are like horses, they will go well for the man who is used to them under almost any condition; but when a new hand takes control accidents are likely to happen unless the greatest care is used. as he well realized he knew nothing of the habits of the _golden eagle ii_, which was a far bigger aeroplane than he had ever run or in fact ever seen. the boy's heart beat a little faster as he clambered into the pilot section of the chassis and adjured billy for the last time to look well to the engine. "that's all right," billy anxiously assured him, "i'm as good an engineer as harry himself, or will be," he added. "don't holler till you're out of the wood," said lathrop, "and obey orders." it is curious how circumstances will alter cases. billy barnes, by virtue of his greater age and knowledge of the world was easily lathrop's leader, ordinarily. now, however, when billy was about to enter upon a duty of which he knew nothing and the other boy a whole lot, their positions were readjusted and it was lathrop who became the leading spirit. quatty, it had been agreed, was to be left behind, and was to make his way back to the coast with the canoes as soon as possible and apprise the _tarantula_ people of what had occurred. he silently watched the boys' preparations with interest from a safe distance. "now, then, crank her up," shouted lathrop, as he threw in the spark on the control wheel and waited patiently for results as billy turned and sweated at the self-starting apparatus. "what's the matter?" he demanded, as there was no answering explosion from the engine. "i don't know," stammered billy wiping his brow, "there doesn't seem to be anything doing, does there?" "what can be the matter?" exclaimed lathrop, throwing out the switch and coming aft. he examined the spark plugs in turn and found that they were sparking in perfect order. next came an inspection of the carburettor--that, too, was in good trim. evidently the reason for the failure to start was not there. lathrop was puzzled, he had never known an engine to behave in such a mystifying way before. he went over it again part by part, carefully, and cranked it and rocked it till his arms were ready to drop off. suddenly an idea struck him--not so much for the reasonableness of it, but because he had examined about every other likely cause of failure to start. "well, billy, you are a wonder," he exclaimed in a vexed tone, when to his surprise he found that what he tried in desperation proved correct. "what's the trouble?" asked billy cheerfully. "why you only forgot to open the gasolene valve, that's all." for the first and last time in his life the reporter was fairly taken back. "well, lathrop, i will admit that i am a first-class, blown-in-the-bottle chump," he exclaimed contritely. the next cranking proved successful and after the engines had settled down to a quiet easy purr, lathrop with a warning cry of: "hold tight, i'm going to throw in the clutch!" started the big aeroplane on its flight of rescue. with a swift, wobbling motion that threw billy from side to side of the car the _golden eagle ii_, under the direction of her unskilled pilot, skidded across the top of the mound-builders' island while quatty waved his arm in farewell. unaccustomed as he was to the _golden eagle ii_, lathrop made his first mistake when he tried to raise her after too short a run. to his despair and amazement she refused to rise when he raised his upward planes. they were traveling over the ground at a rapid speed, now with the two big propellers threshing the air at a rate of 1200 revolutions a minute; the roar of the exhaust was like the discharge of a score of gatling guns. lathrop set his teeth desperately and jerked the planes at an even acuter angle in his effort to get her to rise. they were only a few yards from the edge of the mound now and if she refused to rise by the time they reached it they would be inevitably dashed down to death in the ruins of the big sky-skimmer. with that desperate determination that comes in the face of crucial emergency, lathrop threw in another speed on the engine and they attained a velocity of 1500 revolutions a minute. "i'll make her rise or bust," he said grimly to himself. but the end he feared did not come; under the added impetus of her increased speed and the acute angle at which the boy had set the rising planes the _golden eagle ii_ shot into the air, as abruptly as a sky-rocket, as she reached the edge of the mound. the result for an instant, however, threatened to be almost as serious as if she had gone over the edge without rising. in his excitement lathrop had set the rising planes at such an abrupt angle that when the ship shot up she reared like a horse, hurling billy barnes back among the engines and almost overboard and causing lathrop to let go of his steering wheel for the fragment of a second to grasp a stanchion. at the same instant the aeroplane, left unguided for a second, gave a sickening plunge sideways, like a wounded hawk. lathrop in his agitation seized the wheel and gave it a twist that brought her round, it is true, but as her starboard propeller was working in direct opposition to the curve he wished her to describe, he almost twisted her rudder off and made her careen at just as alarming an angle in the opposite direction. to billy it looked as if they were gone but lathrop, who was fast learning the peculiarities of the craft he had under his control, managed by a skillful manipulation to right her and the next minute with her propellers beating the air at top speed the big craft dashed forward as steadily as an ocean liner. it had been a narrow escape, though, and taught lathrop something about navigating a twin screw air-ship. in a craft of this kind, in a maneuver executed to port, the course of the ship is bound to receive a backward pull from the starboard propeller and vice versa. it is necessary for the operator, then to swing in an easy curve to avoid pulling his steering gear out by the roots and being dashed to death. "that's only the overture," cried lathrop, exhilarated by the rapid motion as they rushed toward the island, "wait for the big show." chapter xxvii. hemmed in by flames. in the meantime in the noisome dungeon in which they lay, frank and harry chester, and the officer they had struggled so bravely for, had given up all hope of ever seeing the light of day again. as nearly as they could calculate it was twelve hours or more since bellman had thrust his head into their place of confinement and shouted that he would give them a last chance if they would tell him where the _golden eagle ii_ lay and where their companions were encamped. the boys, though faint from lack of food and almost dead with thirst, refused and bellman with a savage curse had slammed the door. for a time they had heard tramping about overhead as if there were last hasty preparations being made for the departure and then all grew silent as a grave. at that time, however, their fears were not so much that they were to be left behind to be starved in this black hole, as they had implicit faith in the man to whom frank had given the buddha. time and again harry, whose voice was growing momentarily fainter, had murmured to frank: "you don't think he will fail us, frank?" and frank, although his own faith was beginning to diminish as the hours went by, had always responded reassuringly. he pointed out cheerfully--or as cheerfully as he could--that to the oriental mind an oath made in the manner in which the red-banded serang had made it was sacred and to be obeyed at all hazards. anything might have happened to delay the man's coming, he argued, and there was no doubt that he would appear in due course and redeem his promise. frank's thoughts belied his cheerful words, however. there were a dozen things beside the breaking of his oath that might have caused the serang to be unable to liberate as he had promised. as the time passed by the conviction steadily grew in frank's mind that they had been deserted and that the three miserable occupants of the dungeon were at that moment the only living things on the island. as for the lieutenant, he was sunk in a sort of coma in which it is doubtful, if he felt anxiety or any other emotion. he seemed stupefied by his sufferings after his first returning dawn of reason. suddenly, and when the boys' hopes had reached their lowest ebb they were startled by the sound of footsteps walking above them. they shouted at the top of their voices and the footsteps ceased. then they began again. who could it be? for a moment the idea of a rescue party flashed across frank's mind but he dismissed it as improbable. nobody could have heard of their flight or located their place of captivity unless--quatty! could it have been possible that the negro had conveyed word to their comrades of their plight. frank hastily communicated his idea to harry, but harry dismissed it as improbable. frank, too, agreed that quatty was far more likely to have saved himself than to have bothered about them. how unjust they were to the black we know. but there were certainly footsteps upstairs. the boys shouted and shouted. friend or foe it made little difference to them. they were famished and even their foes would surely not be so inhuman as to refuse them food. even the lieutenant aroused himself and set up a poor, feeble cry. hark, what is that they are shouting upstairs? "frank! frank! harry, where are you?" a second's listening convinced the boys they were not dreaming. whoever was upstairs was shouting their names. they set up redoubled shouts and shortly after they heard hands fumbling at the lock of the prison door. a few seconds later the lock having refused to yield, the door came flying inward, burst from its hinges by a tree-trunk cut and used as a battering ram by lathrop and billy. the scene after the boys were reunited and lieutenant chapin had been introduced may be imagined. there surely was never a more joyful reunion nor in more strange surroundings. billy described how after their flight from the mound-builders' island they had decided, after careful reconnoitering, that the island was deserted. how this had come about of course they did not know, and were at first in despair as they concluded that the boys and the lieutenant must have been taken to the coast and carried off to slavery in the far east. at the actual baseness of captain bellman's mind they had not guessed till they found the prisoners. they had agreed, however, to land and explore the island in the hope that they might find some clue to their comrades, and with that intention had descended to the large open space where the reducing operations had been carried on. in course of time they had arrived at the door of the big bunk-house and here had made a startling discovery. stretched across the door of the place was a dead body. "and what do you think, frank?" exclaimed lathrop, "on examining it in one hand we found tightly clutched a key and--here's the extraordinary part--in one of the pockets of the loose blouse he wore we discovered a little green buddha exactly like the one the moonshiner sold you." "poor serang," sighed frank, "he did then try to keep his word." his words demanded an explanation and the boy rapidly told the rescuers of the dead man's oath to release them. "if you had taken that key, lathrop," he concluded, "you could have opened the door easily without battering it down. poor fellow--bellman must have caught him coming back here and guessing for what purpose, he killed him." "the first thing to do is get you out of these stocks," said billy after he had detailed how, on hearing the boys' shouts, they had traced them to the cellar in which they lay. "why not try the key," suggested billy, "it looked a pretty big affair to me to fit the lock we found on that door." "that's a good idea," assented lathrop. he was up the stairs and back in a very short time and carried with him the key that had been found in the dead man's hand. it fitted the stocks perfectly and furnished a further proof that the serang had actually been on his way to keep his promise when he was killed. a twist of it in the heavy padlock and the unfortunate prisoners were at liberty with the exception of their handcuffs. with a cold chisel and hammer lathrop struck these off. a few minutes later the boys had been helped out of the dungeon into what had been the blacksmith shop of bellman's gang. with the exception of a great stiffness and soreness, occasioned by their confinement, the prisoners were soon as well as ever, and after a hearty meal from the provision lockers of the _golden eagle ii_, and a long account from lieutenant chapin, who was rapidly recovering, of his adventures, the boys were ready to start. so interested had they been in talking, however, and so rapidly had the time flown that they had not looked about them or taken any note of anything but each other. now, however, when they looked up they noticed a peculiar haze in the air and at the same time became aware of a choking sort of feeling that made their eyes sting and their nostrils itch. "what is it?" asked harry as they all noticed these symptoms. frank and lieutenant chapin were both on their feet and had exchanged grave glances. from where they had been seated they had not commanded a view of the 'glades. now, however, as the little party hastily emerged they saw before them a sight that chilled the blood of the boldest of them. for as far as they could see, and sweeping down on them at terrible speed, was a wall of flames. the everglades were on fire! with a quick gasp frank recollected the dried brush he had noticed on the trail the day he and harry left the boat. he realized that if the flames reached the island with such tinder to feed on they would sweep it from end to end. the _golden eagle ii_ would be destroyed and they doomed to a slow death from starvation. "what about the other side of the island? perhaps there is some way out there," suggested the lieutenant. frank shook his head. "by the time we get there the flames would be roaring up the hillside here," he said, "there is only one thing to do. run for it." "run for it?" "fly for it rather. in an hour's time this island will be a black charred ash-heap," was frank's reply. "but, frank," was harry's exclamation, "the _golden eagle ii_ will only carry four, and then she is overburdened, and there are five of us here!" "she's got to carry us," said frank grimly, "or we'll be burned to crisps, or starved if we escape death by fire." "what are you going to do?" "lighten her," was the quiet reply, "dump overboard every ounce of weight we can spare." feverishly the little party went about the work. first the transoms were ruthlessly ripped out and thrown aside. then came the provisions and other equipment, and lastly even the navigating instruments. "that's lightened her about 150 pounds," pronounced frank. "we'll try her with that and if it doesn't work we'll have to tear out the wireless and let that go too." by this time the advance guard of the flames was marching in a long ruthless line perilously close already to the island. the dry saw-grass blazed like tinder and the party on the island could distinctly hear the hungry roar of the flames as they advanced. the conflagration leaped the narrow water-courses as it came to them like a steeplechaser and the numerous runnels offered no more check to it than if they had not been there. even the broad water-course, used by bellman and his men to get to and from the coast, did not check the progress of the flames. there was a fair wind blowing out of the northwest and before it red-hot brands were whisked across the stream and ignited the dry wastes on the other side. "if we don't hurry," exclaimed frank, as his eye took in this, "we shall be hemmed in." this was a new peril. with the flames only on one side they might have hoped to escape but if the blaze ringed the island in there would be grave danger in trying to cross it in their overburdened air-ship. for one thing the strange cross-currents created by a fire are alone enough to throw an aeroplane onto dangerous angles and frank, as he gazed at the height to which the flames were leaping, added to this menace the fear that the overladen ship would not be able to rise high enough to clear them. what that meant there was no need for him to tell the others--he did not dare to entertain such a thought himself. with all the speed they made the flames were swifter and by the time they had all scrambled into the chassis the island was surrounded by roaring flames and the hungry fire was beginning to attack the dried brush on its sides. "can we make it?" gasped lathrop as he gazed at the terrifying spectacle. "we've got to make it," snapped frank as harry started the engine. the atmosphere was by this time so obscured by choking smoke that it was as thick and dark as a fog. water streamed from the boys' eyes and noses and they speedily found that every breath they took seared their lungs as though a red-hot iron had been plunged into them. even if they could weather the flames, could they get through such smoke alive? with a prayer on his lips frank started the _golden eagle ii_ into the awful smothering pall. he could not see a foot in front of him and, indeed, in a second his eyes were blinded by the acrid reek. "we've got to do it, we've got to do it," he kept saying to himself through clenched teeth as he drove the aeroplane full into the inferno. it was as dark as night and as hot as a furnace mouth. caught in the currents generated by the heat the aeroplane swayed and zigzagged drunkenly. frank, his eyes closed and drawing every breath with agony, clutched the wheel till the varnish came off on his hands. he could smell the scorching paint of _the golden eagle ii_ as the awful heat blistered it. it flashed across his mind that the cloth covering the planes might catch and then? somehow nothing seemed to matter much then to the dazed, half-suffocated boy, only one clear idea presented itself repeating over and over with trip-hammer regularity: "keep going ahead." [illustration: the dash through the flames in the everglades.] but were they going ahead? frank did not know. so badly was the craft handicapped by her weight and in such a whirl of heat-engendered air currents was she caught that it was difficult for frank, blinded as he was, to tell. suddenly she gave a swoop down. was it the end? no, she righted herself, more by instinct on frank's part than anything. the blinded, choked, helmsman jerked up her rising planes. but the next minute she repeated the blundering stagger downward and frank realized, even in his dazed state, that she would never rise again if she wasn't lightened. the wireless! that would have to go. with a cracked voice that sounded like a ghost of his usual hearty tones, frank shouted back the command. but there was no response. temporarily he checked the aeroplane's downward tendency but he knew that the next time she would drop into the flames in spite of him and shrivel up with her passengers like a handful of flax. blinded by smoke, with cracked lips and swollen tongue frank realized that something must have happened to the others. with one hand on the steering wheel, he reached back and seized the wireless-box by its base. it weighed 165 pounds and if he could get it free it meant their salvation. he tugged with all the strength in his arms. the case moved slightly on its base. frank knew the screws that held it in place did not reach very deep, but with one hand he could not manage to tear it loose. then he did a daring thing. setting the rising planes at their full upward tendency he left the wheel locked by its spring gear and reeled with outstretched hands toward the apparatus. once he tugged,--twice he tugged. the box was coming loose but the aeroplane was sagging, he could feel it. it was getting hotter, too. with bursting brain and blistered hands he heaved at the box till the blood ran from under his nails. would it never come? with an effort that seemed to crack his shoulders, frank gave a mighty heft. the box ripped loose with a suddenness that sent him staggering back; but the next minute he recovered his balance and heaved it overboard into the roaring vortex beneath them. then, with the instinct born of necessity, he groped his way to the wheel and as he set the _golden eagle ii_ on a rising course he realized that she was responding and they were saved. ten minutes later they emerged into the blessed air that, though still smoke-filled, above the fire-swept flats was still breathable. with blackened face and singed hair and eyebrows, frank felt the difference, although his eyes were still closed and giving him agony. he inhaled it in great breaths of delight, saturating his lungs in its comparative freshness. finally, when he could open his eyes, he looked back for the others. they lay on the floor senseless, smoke-blackened, without motion. but the _golden eagle ii_ under frank's guidance had passed the ordeal of flame and as she skimmed through the cooler air the unconscious members of the party, one by one recovered and grasped the hand of the boy who had saved them. chapter xxviii. the black aeroplane. the _tarantula_, black, grim and business-like, lay at anchor off the mouth of the jew-fish river, her long, lean form rising and falling on the heavy swells and a curl of black smoke lazily issuing from each of her four black funnels, the foremost one of which was striped with four yellow bands. forward her crew lay about and loafed or fished, while aft lieutenant selby and the ensigns assigned to the command with him, paced the deck, looking from time to time into the wireless room to ascertain if any news had been heard from the boys. the answer each time was in the negative and hourly the naval officer's apprehension grew. what could be the matter? if everything had gone well he should certainly have heard from them by now. of the submarine, also, nothing had been seen and this fact encouraged the young officer to believe that she was still up the river somewhere. a bright lookout had been kept day and night since frank's wireless announcing the discovery of captain bellman's destination, but nothing had been seen of the expected craft. that she had utilized her diving apparatus and passed unnoticed in that way was unlikely as the water in which the _tarantula_ lay, was shoal even for her and the soundings that the lieutenant had made the day before showed that it would have been impossible for the submarine to have passed out in any other way but the main channel. so with steam up the _tarantula_ swung at her anchor and waited like a patient cat, watching an opportunity to pounce on a mouse. the idea of entering the river in boats and scouting for the submarine had entered the lieutenant's head, but after consideration he had abandoned it. to reveal his presence to bellman might spoil everything and as it was if the submarine was in the river, she was securely bottled up. the hours slowly passed on and still no word came. evening set in and the wireless was still silent. "if those young rascals haven't shown up by tomorrow morning, bagsby, i shall be sorely tempted to head an expedition myself and go in search of them," declared selby--on whom the strain of the long wait was wearing--to one of his ensigns. "air-ship! dead off our bow, sir!" suddenly hailed the lookout forward; who, like everybody else, had been keeping a watch all day for some signs of the boys' craft. "by jove, so it is!" exclaimed the lieutenant, bringing his glasses to bear. high in the evening sky above the tangle of islands an air-craft was winging its way toward them. at first sight a mere speck, she grew rapidly larger as she neared the shore. "but what can have happened to her?" exclaimed the lieutenant as the first vague blot of the ship resolved through his glasses into definite lines, "here, take a look, bagsby." he handed the glasses to his subordinate, who laid them aside in a few minutes with the exclamation. "why, she's as black as a coal, sir!" "what's that dangling at her stern, bagsby?" asked lieutenant selby the next minute. "why, it looks like an american flag, sir," responded the ensign, "but it's almost as black as the rest of her and--just look at that, sir--the men in her all black, too!" hardly able to control his excitement the lieutenant took the glasses from his subordinate, though by this time the air-vessel was so close that the five persons aboard her were visible to the naked eye. they were waving furiously and shouting at the tops of their voices, though these sounded, to tell the truth, a bit feeble. "_tarantula_, ahoy!" came a hail from the aeroplane, as she swung in a graceful circle about the destroyer. "ahoy there," hailed the lieutenant through a megaphone, "who are you?" "the _golden eagle ii_, captain frank chester," came back from the aeroplane as she swung by, "with lieutenant bob chapin, aboard." the cheer that went up then roused the herons that were just settling down to bed and sent them and a hundred other varieties of everglade birds swirling in wild affright up around the tree-tops. as for selby he clapped bagsby on the back till the young ensign sustained a violent fit of coughing. "it's chapin and he's safe; hurray!" he shouted. "those boys have done the trick!" "send a boat ashore for us," shouted the leader of the adventurers from the smoke-blackened 'plane, as she swung by once more, "we've got a lot to tell you." "i should think so," commented the lieutenant to himself, as he ordered a boat lowered and seated himself in the stern sheets. while this was being done the boys had landed on a long sandy bar, which made an ideal grounding place. it didn't take long, you may be sure, to get them into the boat and row them aboard the _tarantula_ where, after soap and towel had removed their sooty disguise, they made a meal that tasted to them infinitely more delicious than any of the more elaborate repasts any of them had ever eaten in new york. as for lieutenant chapin, to be once more aboard one of uncle sam's ships and in the hands of friends, affected him to such a degree that after dinner he begged to be excused and paced in solitude up and down the deck for an hour or more, while frank told and retold the story of their adventures. while the lieutenant was gratefully recalling the boys' exploit, he was awakened from his reverie by the splash of a paddle and looking up saw a canoe drawing near in which were seated three people. it was too dark of course for him to make out more than the outlines of their figures. "boat ahoy! what boat's that?" hailed the lookout sharply. "well, we ain't got no name but an injun one and i disremember that," came back the reply, "but tell me have you got two young chaps, named chester, aboard?" "who is that?" hailed the lieutenant. "my name's ben stubbs. who the dickens are you?" was the bluff reply. "lieutenant chapin," was the calm reply. the result was astonishing. "well, i'll be double horn-swoggled," shouted the same bluff voice that had framed the question and the next minute there was a splash and loud sputtering sounds of indignation. "man overboard!" cried the _tarantula's_ lookout. "you black landlubbers! upsetting me overboard and trying to drown me, eh? ef i had you at a rope's end i'd make you walk fancy," came over the water in tones running the gamut of indignation. by this time the boys and the others were on deck and as they heard and amazedly recognized the sputtering voice there came from them a delighted hail of: "ben stubbs!" "come aboard!" "sure i will if this consarned contraption of a canoe we're in wull hold me an' my voice, but every time i speak it tips over," was the indignant reply. but there were no more accidents and a few seconds later the boys and the dripping ben were wringing hands and slapping backs till the tears came to the rugged old adventurer's eyes. "keelhaul me if i ain't glad to see you," shouted ben, "and the lootinant, too. i knowed they'd git yer ef they set out to," roared ben, "and by the great horn-spoon, they have." while this was going on the two other occupants of the boat--who were none other than quatty and pork chops--had clambered on deck and stood shyly by. they, too, came in for their share of greetings and congratulations. then ben, of course, had to relate his adventures with the seminoles, winding up with the account of how he came to leave the indian village. it seemed that a wandering party of seminoles had come across quatty, wearily paddling toward the coast from the mound-builders' island, and as he was almost exhausted had taken him in their canoes and poled him at top speed to the island. arrived there quatty was roused to great indignation, as well as surprise when he discovered that ben was a captive and demanded his immediate release. by virtue of quatty's power over the tribesmen, ben had immediately been set free and he and quatty canoed to camp walrus. here they found pork chops, half crazy from fright and as he would not hear of being left alone any longer they agreed to take him with them to the _tarantula_, whither ben had decided to go as soon as he found the camp deserted. the rest the boys knew. the relation of ben's narrative, and of course that of the boys which had to be retold to the newcomer, consumed so much time that they were all startled when eight bells (midnight) rang out. the echo had hardly died away when a black form was seen rushing through the water from the mouth of the river. it was sighted simultaneously by almost all on deck and recognized at once for what it was. captain bellman's submarine! chapter xxix. the last of bellman's crew. "up anchor, quick!" shouted lieutenant selby, springing into the conning tower. the shrill whistle of the bos'un's pipe sounded at the same moment and in a second the ship that had been so still and inert was a maelstrom of activity. the anchor was broken out and long before it was landed home at the catheads the _tarantula_, a long line of white foam streaking aft from each side of her sharp bow, was steering through the water in pursuit of the flying submarine. lieutenant selby's first action after they were under way had been to order the searchlight played on the chase and kept on her. fortunately the phosphorescent glow left on the water by the submarine, as she dashed away, made her course as plain as day and the man operating the searchlight had no difficulty in finding her. as the light played about her the watchers on the _tarantula_, made out two forms standing on her railed-in back. "bellman!" exclaimed frank as his eyes fell on the taller of the two. "foyashi, the scoundrel," was lieutenant chapin's recognition of the shorter one. "we'll get 'em if we blow the _tarantula_ up," exclaimed lieutenant selby tensely, as he shouted down to the engineer, "more steam, mac." the pace was terrific, moreover it was dangerous navigation, but everyone aboard well knew that they would have to catch the submarine before she got out of the waters where she did not dare to dive, and there was not a man aboard that was not willing, in the heat of the chase, to take the chance of running aground. lieutenant selby himself had taken the wheel from the man who had held it when the chase began and like greyhound and hare the destroyer and the submarine raced along. "try them with the bow gun," suggested lieutenant chapin to his associate. "a good idea, old man," was the reply, and old bob adams, a seamy-faced veteran, was called aft and promised unlimited tobacco and spending money if he could hit the submarine and "wing" her. old adams was a man of few words and didn't change his usual habit of silence, as the gun was made ready for him. it was a hotchkiss rapid-fire capable of piercing steel-armor at half-a-mile and the submarine's broad glistening back offered a good mark. "are you ready, adams?" asked the lieutenant, as after a lot of squinting and adjustment the old man stood with the firing cord in his hand. "bin ready, tew minuts," was the reply. "go ahead then." the hotchkiss spat viciously, but the water spurted up a good ten feet of the mark. the shot had missed. old adams didn't change a muscle of his face, though he knew every eye on ship but that of the helmsman was on him. he spat over the side, ruminatively, and then pointed the gun, once more. by this time bellman and his companion had seen there was mischief behind and had ducked through the slide of their craft and screwed it down. the lieutenant rightly interpreted this as a signal that in a few minutes the submarine would dive. if once she did so the chances against their getting her again would be remote in the extreme. "get her this time, adams," he beseeched. "i'll do my best, sir;" said the old salt as the gun cracked once more. this time a cheer went up. the submarine had been hit. "again! let her have it!" yelled lieutenant selby, carried away by excitement. again and again the hotchkiss viciously cracked and spat fire and every time brought the _tarantula_ nearer to the crippled diver. it was evident that the submarine could not last much longer. already her speed was a mere crawl. one of adams' projectiles must have penetrated to her engine-room or else,--as was more likely,--her crew had mutinied. suddenly the slide on her back opened and through it poured a crowd of the little brown men who had been employed at bellman's island. they cried, they screamed appeals of aid to the pursuing ship, which had of course ceased firing as human figures appeared. "they want us to take 'em aboard, sir," said old adams, who had served in the far east and understood their appeals. "they say they are sinking and that their engineer is killed." "lower the boats," ordered selby, "we'll get them off. i won't see men drown if i can help it." a coatless man suddenly appeared among the searchlight illumined crowd on the back of the submarine. it was bellman. by his side was foyashi, also coatless and desperate. "back, you yellow dogs. get back below!" yelled bellman, flourishing a revolver. a beseeching cry went up. "we'll go to the bottom together," shouted bellman, apparently beside himself. the next instant his revolver cracked and two of the little brown men fell across the steel plates. what happened then was like a nightmare to the boys who stood watching in horrified amazement. the whole swarming crowd of panic-stricken men seized bellman and foyashi and paying no attention to their despairing cries hurled them overboard. in vain the wretches tried to clasp the sides of the wounded submarine and haul themselves back on deck. they were knocked off each time by their crazed followers. before the boats from the _tarantula_ could reach them they both had disappeared. in the submarine's engine-room job scudder, too, lay dead--killed beside his engines at adams' first successful shot. the _tarantula_ anchored there for the night and the boats rowed about seeking for the lost men but their bodies did not reappear and doubtless the swift current swept them out to sea. early the next day the boys and the officers rowed over to the submarine, whose crew was now installed on board the _tarantula_ and searched her thoroughly. she had settled in shallow water and access to her was easy through the top plate. their diligence was rewarded by the discovery in a steel bound chest, that evidently had belonged to bellman, of the long missing formula of chapinite. they found, too, unmistakable proofs that the government which the authorities had suspected all along had really been the man's employer. how he drifted into their service, was, of course, only surmise. the submarine was laden with four gross of straw-wrapped boxes containing enough of the explosive to have blown up the navies of the world, if mixed with the right quantity of gunpowder. at lieutenant selby's suggestion the boxes were weighted and sunk to the bottom of the gulf of mexico the next day where they still lie. it was too dangerous a cargo to carry in the form the daring bellman had packed it. as for pork chops and quatty, before the _tarantula_ sailed their hearts were made glad by presents of rifles, revolvers and ammunition and permission to take possession of the canoes and all the duffle the boys had left at camp walrus. pork chops had been so fascinated by quatty's tales of life among the seminoles that he had decided to cast in his lot with him and, on condition that quatty gave him a proper introduction to the tribe, to go shares on the _carrier dove_ with him after they fetched her from her anchorage. ben stubbs and the boys, in the _tarantula's_ launch, early the next day went back to the sand-spit where the _golden eagle ii_ had been beached and dismantled her, as soon as the inspection of the submarine was completed. packed in sections she was placed aboard the destroyer together with the field wireless which was fetched from camp walrus, by lathrop and the negroes. that evening just as the group of herons, to which the boys had grown so accustomed, were circling above their roosting-places, the _tarantula_ with a long blast of her siren, swung out of the channel into the shimmering gold of the gulf. behind them lay the black outlines of the half-submerged submarine. forward on deck, squatted the little brown men who were to be set ashore at the first convenient port, as they all had plenty of money to get back to their own country. the _tarantula's_ destination was hampton roads, from where the boys and lieutenant chapin were to hurry to washington and relate the whole story. as for billy barnes, he was already busy writing out what he called "the biggest beat of the ages, the recovery of lieutenant chapin and the loss of the mysterious submarine." "it's good for a whole front page," he declared, "with pictures of all of us and 'by william barnes,' at the top." "what are you thinking of, frank, old boy?" asked harry as the destroyer plunged steadily forward through the night,--homeward bound. frank laughed, although his thoughts had been grave. "that we have earned a holiday," he said, "let's go on a hunting trip, some place." "where?" inquired harry. "oh, anywhere--what's the matter with africa?" "great! hunting by aeroplane!" exclaimed harry, "and we'll take the bunch along. hurray! for the boy aviators in africa; or, on an aerial ivory trail." the end. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- _reasons why you should obtain a catalogue of our publications_ _a postal to us will place it in your hands_ 1. you will possess a comprehensive and classified list of all the best standard books published, at prices less than offered by others. 2. you will find listed in our catalogue books on every topic: poetry, fiction, romance, travel, adventure, humor, science, history, religion, biography, drama, etc., besides dictionaries and manuals, bibles, recitation and hand books, sets, octavos, presentation books and juvenile and nursery literature in immense variety. 3. you will be able to purchase books at prices within your reach; as low as 10 cents for paper covered books, to $5.00 for books bound in cloth or leather, adaptable for gift and presentation purposes, to suit the tastes of the most critical. 4. you will save considerable money by taking advantage of our special discounts, which we offer to those whose purchases are large enough to warrant us in making a reduction. hurst & co., _publishers_, 395, 397, 399 broadway, new york. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- oakdale academy series stories of modern school sports by morgan scott. cloth bound. illustrated. price, 60c. per vol., postpaid [illustration] ben stone at oakdale. under peculiarly trying circumstances ben stone wins his way at oakdale academy, and at the same time enlists our sympathy, interest and respect. through the enmity of bern hayden, the loyalty of roger eliot and the clever work of the "sleuth," ben is falsely accused, championed and vindicated. boys of oakdale academy. "one thing i will claim, and that is that all grants fight open and square and there never was a sneak among them." it was rodney grant, of texas, who made the claim to his friend, ben stone, and this story shows how he proved the truth of this statement in the face of apparent evidence to the contrary. rival pitchers of oakdale. baseball is the main theme of this interesting narrative, and that means not only clear and clever descriptions of thrilling games, but an intimate acquaintance with the members of the teams who played them. the oakdale boys were ambitious and loyal, and some were even disgruntled and jealous, but earnest, persistent work won out. oakdale boys in camp. the typical vacation is the one that means much freedom, little restriction, and immediate contact with "all outdoors." these conditions prevailed in the summer camp of the oakdale boys and made it a scene of lively interest. the great oakdale mystery. the "sleuth" scents a mystery! he "follows his nose." the plot thickens! he makes deductions. there are surprises for the reader--and for the "sleuth," as well. new boys at oakdale. a new element creeps into oakdale with another year's registration of students. the old and the new standards of conduct in and out of school meet, battle, and cause sweeping changes in the lives of several of the boys. any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price. hurst & company publishers new york ----------------------------------------------------------------------- dreadnought boys series tales of the new navy by capt. wilbur lawton author of "boy aviators series." cloth bound. illustrated. price, 50c. per vol., postpaid [illustration] the dreadnought boys on battle practice. especially interesting and timely is this book which introduces the reader with its heroes, ned and herc, to the great ships of modern warfare and to the intimate life and surprising adventures of uncle sam's sailors. the dreadnought boys aboard a destroyer. in this story real dangers threaten and the boys' patriotism is tested in a peculiar international tangle. the scene is laid on the south american coast. the dreadnought boys on a submarine. to the inventive genius--trade-school boy or mechanic--this story has special charm, perhaps, but to every reader its mystery and clever action are fascinating. the dreadnought boys on aero service. among the volunteers accepted for aero service are ned and herc. their perilous adventures are not confined to the air, however, although they make daring and notable flights in the name of the government; nor are they always able to fly beyond the reach of their old "enemies," who are also airmen. any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price. hurst & company publishers new york ----------------------------------------------------------------------- border boys series mexican and canadian frontier series by fremont b. deering. cloth bound. illustrated. price, 50c. per vol., postpaid [illustration] the border boys on the trail. what it meant to make an enemy of black ramon de barios--that is the problem that jack merrill and his friends, including coyote pete, face in this exciting tale. the border boys across the frontier. read of the haunted mesa and its mysteries, of the subterranean river and its strange uses, of the value of gasolene and steam "in running the gauntlet," and you will feel that not even the ancient splendors of the old world can furnish a better setting for romantic action than the border of the new. the border boys with the mexican rangers. as every day is making history--faster, it is said, than ever before--so books that keep pace with the changes are full of rapid action and accurate facts. this book deals with lively times on the mexican border. the border boys with the texas rangers. the border boys have already had much excitement and adventure in their lives, but all this has served to prepare them for the experiences related in this volume. they are stronger, braver and more resourceful than ever, and the exigencies of their life in connection with the texas rangers demand all their trained ability. any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price. hurst & company publishers new york ----------------------------------------------------------------------- bungalow boys series live stories of outdoor life by dexter j. forrester. cloth bound. illustrated. price, 50c. per vol., postpaid [illustration] the bungalow boys. how the bungalow boys received their title and how they retained the right to it in spite of much opposition makes a lively narrative for lively boys. the bungalow boys marooned in the tropics. a real treasure hunt of the most thrilling kind, with a sunken spanish galleon as its object, makes a subject of intense interest at any time, but add to that a band of desperate men, a dark plot and a devil fish, and you have the combination that brings strange adventures into the lives of the bungalow boys. the bungalow boys in the great northwest. the clever assistance of a young detective saves the boys from the clutches of chinese smugglers, of whose nefarious trade they know too much. how the professor's invention relieves a critical situation is also an exciting incident of this book. the bungalow boys on the great lakes. the bungalow boys start out for a quiet cruise on the great lakes and a visit to an island. a storm and a band of wreckers interfere with the serenity of their trip, and a submarine adds zest and adventure to it. any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price. hurst & company publishers new york ----------------------------------------------------------------------- boy inventors series stories of skill and ingenuity by richard bonner cloth bound. illustrated. price, 50c. per vol., postpaid [illustration] the boy inventors' wireless telegraph. blest with natural curiosity,--sometimes called the instinct of investigation,--favored with golden opportunity, and gifted with creative ability, the boy inventors meet emergencies and contrive mechanical wonders that interest and convince the reader because they always "work" when put to the test. the boy inventors' vanishing gun. a thought, a belief, an experiment; discouragement, hope, effort and final success--this is the history of many an invention; a history in which excitement, competition, danger, despair and persistence figure. this merely suggests the circumstances which draw the daring boy inventors into strange experiences and startling adventures, and which demonstrate the practical use of their vanishing gun. the boy inventors' diving torpedo boat. as in the previous stories of the boy inventors, new and interesting triumphs of mechanism are produced which become immediately valuable, and the stage for their proving and testing is again the water. on the surface and below it, the boys have jolly, contagious fun, and the story of their serious, purposeful inventions challenge the reader's deepest attention. any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price. hurst & company publishers new york ----------------------------------------------------------------------- frank armstrong series twentieth century athletic stories by mathew m. colton. cloth bound. illustrated. price, 60c. per vol., postpaid [illustration] frank armstrong's vacation. how frank's summer experience with his boy friends make him into a sturdy young athlete through swimming, boating, and baseball contests, and a tramp through the everglades, is the subject of this splendid story. frank armstrong at queens. we find among the jolly boys at queen's school, frank, the student-athlete, jimmy, the baseball enthusiast, and lewis, the unconsciously-funny youth who furnishes comedy for every page that bears his name. fall and winter sports between intensely rival school teams are expertly described. frank armstrong's second term. the gymnasium, the track and the field make the background for the stirring events of this volume, in which david, jimmy, lewis, the "wee one" and the "codfish" figure, while frank "saves the day." frank armstrong, drop kicker. with the same persistent determination that won him success in swimming, running and baseball playing, frank armstrong acquired the art of "drop kicking," and the queen's football team profits thereby. any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price. hurst & company publishers new york ----------------------------------------------------------------------- motor maids series wholesome stories of adventure by katherine stokes. cloth bound. illustrated. price, 50c. per vol., postpaid [illustration] the motor maids' school days. billie campbell was just the type of a straightforward, athletic girl to be successful as a practical motor maid. she took her car, as she did her class-mates, to her heart, and many a grand good time did they have all together. the road over which she ran her red machine had many an unexpected turning,--now it led her into peculiar danger; now into contact with strange travelers; and again into experiences by fire and water. but, best of all, "the comet" never failed its brave girl owner. the motor maids by palm and pine. wherever the motor maids went there were lively times, for these were companionable girls who looked upon the world as a vastly interesting place full of unique adventures--and so, of course, they found them. the motor maids across the continent. it is always interesting to travel, and it is wonderfully entertaining to see old scenes through fresh eyes. it is that privilege, therefore, that makes it worth while to join the motor maids in their first 'cross-country run. the motor maids by rose, shamrock and heather. south and west had the motor maids motored, nor could their education by travel have been more wisely begun. but now a speaking acquaintance with their own country enriched their anticipation of an introduction to the british isles. how they made their polite american bow and how they were received on the other side is a tale of interest and inspiration. any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price. hurst & company publishers new york ----------------------------------------------------------------------- molly brown series college life stories for girls by nell speed. cloth bound. illustrated. price, 60c. per vol., postpaid [illustration] molly brown's freshman days. would you like to admit to your circle of friends the most charming of college girls--the typical college girl for whom we are always looking but not always finding; the type that contains so many delightful characteristics, yet without unpleasant perfection in any; the natural, unaffected, sweet-tempered girl, loved because she is lovable? then seek an introduction to molly brown. you will find the baggage-master, the cook, the professor of english literature, and the college president in the same company. molly brown's sophomore days. what is more delightful than a re-union of college girls after the summer vacation? certainly nothing that precedes it in their experience--at least, if all class-mates are as happy together as the wellington girls of this story. among molly's interesting friends of the second year is a young japanese girl, who ingratiates her "humbly" self into everybody's affections speedily and permanently. molly brown's junior days. financial stumbling blocks are not the only things that hinder the ease and increase the strength of college girls. their troubles and their triumphs are their own, often peculiar to their environment. how wellington students meet the experiences outside the class-rooms is worth the doing, the telling and the reading. any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price. hurst & company publishers new york ----------------------------------------------------------------------- girl aviators series clean aviation stories by margaret burnham. cloth bound. illustrated. price, 50c. per vol., postpaid [illustration] the girl aviators and the phantom airship. roy prescott was fortunate in having a sister so clever and devoted to him and his interests that they could share work and play with mutual pleasure and to mutual advantage. this proved especially true in relation to the manufacture and manipulation of their aeroplane, and peggy won well deserved fame for her skill and good sense as an aviator. there were many stumbling-blocks in their terrestrial path, but they soared above them all to ultimate success. the girl aviators on golden wings. that there is a peculiar fascination about aviation that wins and holds girl enthusiasts as well as boys is proved by this tale. on golden wings the girl aviators rose for many an exciting flight, and met strange and unexpected experiences. the girl aviators' sky cruise. to most girls a coaching or yachting trip is an adventure. how much more perilous an adventure a "sky cruise" might be is suggested by the title and proved by the story itself. the girl aviators' motor butterfly. the delicacy of flight suggested by the word "butterfly," the mechanical power implied by "motor," the ability to control assured in the title "aviator," all combined with the personality and enthusiasm of girls themselves, make this story one for any girl or other reader "to go crazy over." any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price. hurst & company publishers new york 